Glee: Modern Warfare
by killer cereal
Summary: "It's competition. It's like warfare, but without the dying part."   Concludes the Barbra chronicles trilogy after 'Winner, Winner'  and 'Once Upon a Time'.
1. Chapter 1

_Set after S and B got sort of married in Vegas. And blew up Disney World. Those were true life stories. No lie._

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><p><span><strong>Glee: Modern Warfare<strong>

Members of the New Directions trickled into the music room slowly to wait impatiently for Mr Schue who had summonsed them all for an impromptu 'Very Important Glee Club Meeting Which Must Not Be Missed'.

Quinn watched eagle eyed as Brittany and Santana came in behind Puck with a highly suspicious, subdued air about them. Without a snark on Santana's behalf or a smile on Brittany's, they made their way to the back row of chairs and sat down together. Brittany sighed and rested her head on Santana's shoulder.

"What up with those two?" Mercedes leaned over to whisper to Quinn not wanting Santana's super gossip sensor to hone in on them.

"Don't know. Its probably best not to ask."

"Do you think one of them could be pregnant?"

"What!"

"C'mon you must have seen stuff go down in the Cheerios locker room. If anyone could manage it, it'd be those two."

"I am not having this conversation with you," Quinn held up her palm to emphasize the sentence.

"But seriously Quinn, look. Brittany doesn't look happy, and Brittany's always happy."

Quinn looked over to where her friends sat and caught Brittany's eye who then half heartedly smiled at her. Quinn smiled back until Santana caught on and glowered across the room.

"Do not stick your nose in there Mercedes, or you'll lose it," Quinn warned ominously.

Sat on the front row Finn's brow furrowed as something pinged his left ear. He blinked in bewilderment and looked around the room. Seeing nothing suspicious but still puzzled, he turned back to face the front only to find Puck beside him gathering a handful of peanuts from where they'd been steadily accumulating on the floor. Puck then proceeded to throw them back as hard as possible to where they had originated from. The girls in between him and a very bored Santana screamed as they were showered with peanuts. The peanut war ended when Artie and Sam entered the room and posed melodramatically.

"We have called you here today, the finest glee clubbers in the land," Artie announced to the sceptical looking girls of New Directions who didn't have a clue what was going on. "We have assembled the finest heroes in order to request you to _do your duty_." Multiple 'What the fuck' facial expressions were passed around by the girls.

"You guys spend way too much time playing computer games and watching comic book movies," Mercedes snorted in disgust and rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, what are you talking about? Mr Schue called us here for a meeting, not you," Tina pointed out everyone's mild confusion.

"Hey, listen to the man." Puck held up a hand to interrupt the decidedly unimpressed girls and halt the outbreak of eye rolling about to unfold. "We just need five minutes of your time before Mr Schue gets here. This is a war cabinet. We've got a plan."

"A plan for what?" demanded Quinn.

Finn, Puck, Artie, Sam and Mike walked to the front of the room with grim expressions on their faces. It was a month before the Nationals competition and they had worryingly felt the need to hijack an emergency Glee meeting, an action previously only invoked by the ever overly enthusiastic Rachel and Mr Schuester. The rest of the Glee club had assembled for Mr Schue, looking unimpressed that they had to turn up out of scheduled rehearsal time. Now they were even more disgruntled by the mad ravings of xbox addicts.

"We've been thinking of ways to throw Vocal Adrenaline off their game," explained Artie.

"We're not gonna lose to them again," Finn chipped in, slamming his fist into his palm for emphasis.

"Oh God," Mercedes murmured to herself. "Here we go."

"That doesn't seem fair," Tina sighed with resignation. "They haven't done anything to us this year."

"We gave them their new female lead. In case you had forgotten," Sam huffed.

"Rachel, have you forgotten the heart crushing humiliation from the past two years? They threw us off with all that Jesse crap and played games with us with Sunshine," Finn said earnestly, hoping for Rachel's approval and worried that she hadn't said anything yet. Rachel looked uncertain but held her peace.

"It's not even cheating," Puck butted in smoothly. "They'll be doing the same thing to us."

"Actually, they won't," Brittany piped up from her vantage point on Santana's shoulder, and stated it as simple fact, as though this reply was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?"

"They don't think we're a threat, that's why they haven't tried anything," Mercedes explained patiently, clearly thinking she was imparting breaking news to a bunch of escaped crazies.

"This is different, this is Nationals!" Puck slammed his fist down on the top of the piano making everyone jump. "We can't leave anything up to chance."

"This is competition," Rachel mused, the only girl who had listened to the boys' argument without rolling her eyes or shaking her head in despair. "It's like warfare, but without the dying part." She spoke matter of factly as though this was a truth borne from years of experience. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Well..."

"Actually-"

"Don't you think we should focus on our own performance and not ruining theirs or anyone else's?" Lauren interrupted.

"I gotta side with the Zizes on this one," Santana agreed. "We can squash them by being our awesome selves. Although in her case, literally." She gave a sickly sweet smile to Lauren earning a nudge in the ribs from Brittany.

"This isn't even about Nationals it's this stupid vendetta with Vocal Adrenaline," said Quinn.

"There is no vendetta!" Puck tried to convince them. "We just want to be ready for when they try something."

"We lost because of Rachel and Finn," Santana snapped at the idiot assembly. "Not because of Vocal Adrenaline." She rounded on Rachel. "Maybe if you two hadn't started sucking face in the middle of a performance we might have done better than twelfth place."

"Like you could have done any better," Rachel instantly answered back. Santana's eyes narrowed dangerously and she stood amidst the tense hush which had descended upon the room as Rachel realised what she had said. "Wait! You- what? No! I mean-"

"Shut it, Berry! All the shit you come up with, 'I'm so fucking wonderful' and, 'I'm gonna rule the world with my perfect, perfect singing.' Then you went and blew it. No one else, you and Finn fucking blew it and everyone just sat back and took it. Well you know what?" She took a menacing step forward.

"Santana, calm down," Brittany reached over and held her back by the arm.

"I am perfectly calm," she scowled, throwing her hands up in the air and turning away from her antagonist.

Brittany pulled Santana back down to her seat next to her and held on, just in case, then she turned to address Rachel. "The last two times we lost, you two did a duet. And besides, Finn looks like he's constipated when he's singing. It's not a good look." Finn took on the hangdog look of a small child whose sandcastle had just been stamped on. "Sorry Finn."

She paused, looked around the room at everyone staring back at the words of wisdom coming for once from Brittany. "It should be a solo, and Rachel should sing it. One of those big broadway things that will blow the roof off, and then a massive group number where everyone gets a turn so people will see how awesome the whole club is."

"Wait, why should Rachel get a solo?" Mercedes demanded to know. "There's a few of us who could pull off a solo."

"You're right," Brittany nodded in agreement. "There are. You could sing your heart out and we might win with it. But, if Rachel pulls it off. We _will _win. And this is our last shot, you guys. This is our Senior Nationals and we have to put our star player out there. And you know, maybe we can think of songs before going to New York this time and rehearse a bit more, rather than leave it all until the night before the competition."

"The voice of reason, Miss Brittany S. Pierce." Kurt said, almost reverently. "Oh, how far we have come."

Brittany grinned at him as a stunned silence swirled around the room while Brittany's words sank in. No one disagreed with her proposal.

"She's right," Santana muttered, causing Rachel to squeak in delight, run up the couple of steps and throw her arms around Brittany and Santana. "That doesn't mean you can touch me!" Santana growled at the shorter girl but the anger from earlier was absent this time.

"What are you going to sing, Rachel?" Kurt asked, as Santana prised Rachel's fingers off her waist and pushed her into Brittany, let her deal with the cuddly stuff.

"Don't worry your pretty little heads," she beamed around the room at the reluctant but unanimous acknowledgement and acceptance she had finally received. "I've got it covered. Now all we need to proceed is Mr Schue."

"Alright guys, listen up! We've got mail and it's got a National show choir board stamp on it," Mr Schuester announced as finally he rushed excitedly into the choir room.

Back in her seat, Rachel grabbed Kurt and they held onto each other's arms squeezing hard, closing their eyes and waiting anxiously. They all knew what was in the envelope but it didn't make the anticipation any less exciting. Will opened the envelope and a big grin almost split his baby butt chin in two.

"Get those permission slips signed asap guys, we're officially going to Nationals!"

Brittany and Santana watched glumly as the rest of the Glee club jumped up and down, screaming, laughing, hugging, dancing and undeniably deliriously happy. After a few minutes the initial rapture wore off and Quinn was the first to notice the two Cheerios sitting frozen, in what could only be thinly veiled misery as the truth finally sank in.

"What's the matter ladies?" she smirked, knowing full well what they were thinking. "Don't think you can get your permission slips signed?"

Quinn watched the girls' non ecstatic reactions and was slowly joined in her observation by the whole club who had eventually calmed down. They watched the two girls' underwhelming response to the admittedly pretty exciting news.

"I'm not that sure we can go," Santana admitted, voicing the thought which had plagued her and Brittany's past few weeks as Nationals loomed closer.

"Do we need a passport?" Brittany asked anxiously. "I don't have one any more. Mine's been reversed."

"Revoked, B." Santana explained. "And no, we don't need passports for New York."

"That's what I said," Brittany huffed. "The FBI took them away and I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to leave the state," she finished quietly. Santana moved her hand over and gripped Brittany's tightly. "The FBI are watching us," Brittany whispered, as though there were agents spying on them right then. "We won't be allowed to go."

"It's okay. It'll be okay. We can do this if it's like official school business or something. They'll have to let us go. If not we'll go in disguise or something."

_FBI? Passports?_ Quinn frowned and exchanged a confused glance with a sceptical Mercedes but then both shrugged and took it as one of Brittany's 'does-not-compute' sayings.

"What about your father, Santana?" Rachel asked worriedly, trying to process a million exciting things at once and wondering how to ensure all her backing singers would be there to support her in New York. The whole of New Directions had to be there. "You must have parental permission to go and you're both grounded for life."

Santana felt like hell. It was like karma was catching up with her and she was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to do that until her next lifetime, right? This was almost as bad as the time she had come into the music room one day to find Quinn showing their wedding DVD to the whole glee club. Over the years all those scornful remarks, the backstabbing, bitchy comments and competitiveness between them had come back and bitchslapped her in the face. It was quite possibly made even worse by the way everyone had been cooing and oohing and ahhing over the whole thing. And then there has been Brittany.

"_Britt?"_

"_Oh, hey babe."_

"_What do you think you're doing?"_

"_Watching our DVD. Come and see," she patted the chair next to her beckoning Santana over._

"_Oh my god Santana, Barbra is touching you!" Rachel squealed._

Quinn walked over and handed the notice Mr Schue had just read out to the group. Santana took it gingerly as though it would bite and then sighed. It was true. It was real. They were officially invited to New York for Nationals.

**'McKinley High School's New Directions are cordially invited to the National Show Choir Competition in New York City to compete for the National championship title. Accommodation will be provided at the blah blah blah...'**

Her eyes glazed over. _Ahhh shit. _Brittany gave a sad pout next to her and rested her head on Santana's shoulder in melancholy.

"I guess I need to talk to my dad," Santana scowled at the paper in her hands. If looks could kill the paper would have caught fire.

"Do you want me to come help?" Brittany murmured into her ear.

"Uh no, not this time B. I think it might be slightly easier if you weren't there reminding him of… everything"

"I could come with you, I'm very persuasive," a chirpy Rachel offered.

"We could all come," offered Finn, genuinely. "If it would help."

"Thanks guys, but," Santana sighed, everyone was so much friendlier to her now she was not so secretly with Brittany. It's like they weren't so scared of her now Brittany had tamed her. She took a deep breath. "I can do this. I'll talk to him."

Her mind wandered as she tried to think of ways to convince her father it would be safe for him to let her out of the state. She could hear Rachel burbling away in the background.

"Mr Schue, you have to sort this out. Call a school board meeting if you have to. We need to keep our numbers up. This cannot be allowed to happen. Oh God, I knew it. I've become over reliant on backing singers, I should have listened to my vocal coach."

"There's more!" Mr Schue interrupted Rachel before she could go into overdrive. "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"Good news!" Everyone called, still celebrating.

Will grinned at their jubilation. "We've got enough money to get more hotel rooms this time. Two to a room."

The response was ecstatic with more screaming and hugging and cheering.

"What's the bad news?" Finn asked warily.

"The reason we have more money for hotel rooms is because we're not flying to New York this time. Instead of spending the cash on plane tickets we'll be going by bus."

A tumble weed wouldn't have been out of place at that moment.

"Twelve hours on a bus with these guys, to New York? Mr Schue, have you caught a ride on the crazy train?"

"Has Coach Sylvester been putting stuff in your food again Mr Schue?" Quinn asked seriously. "I warned you not to let your guard down."

"Hey! It's that or you all share one room this time around."

The boys didn't look all that upset at the prospect but the girls reaction was pure outrage. "Eeww, gross."

"Oh hell to the no!"

The blood drained from Kurt's face. "I refuse point blank to share a room with those Neanderthals. I mean, have you ever been inside the boys locker room? That will give you an idea of how disgusting they are."

"Yeah!"

"Hey!" Sam looked affronted but Puck just shrugged.

"Boys smell, and snore."

"Shut up Quinn, you snore."

"Santana snores."

"What? No I don't, B!"

"Soooo, the bus doesn't look so bad now, does it?" Will grinned.

With an exasperated sigh at the squabbling, Rachel spun on her heels and snatched the invitation from Santana's hand, holding it up to the light to verify its authenticity. Then, she began to scream. An ear splitting, nose bleeding screech as though she were channelling the power of the ancient sirens.

"Rachel, what is it?" Mr Schue asked worried, his hands clamped over his ears.

"What's wrong?" Finn jumped up to stand next to her gripping her by her shoulder to try and calm her down.

"SHUT UP!" Santana shouted feeling a headache coming on.

"You'll wreck your voice." Kurt said calmly. Immediately she stopped. Then, began to splutter out words.

"Guest star judge. GUEST STAR JUDGE!" she screeched, then scrambled up on to the piano stool and stood on top of the piano. Thank God Brad wasn't there or Rachel Berry would never had made it Nationals. She held up the invite reverently and gasped out the next two words.

"Barbra Streisand."

The entire Glee club gasped then Kurt began to scream and Rachel joined in with him again. She jumped down off the piano into his arms and began to jump round and round in a screeching circle of flying hair and scarves and brain freezing incredibleness.

Santana's jaw dropped. Alongside her, Brittany's eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect 'O' shape. What the actual fuck? Santana's brain began to fritz and overload. Brittany and Santana exchanged a stunned look. Streisand and Nationals.

"We have to go," Brittany whispered in Santana's ear. Santana nodded numbly in agreement.

This had the potential to be an epic trip of epicly epic proportions. Or a complete and utter disaster.

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><p>Doctor Lopez looked at the clock as he heard the front door open and someone come in, right on time. Santana was expected home immediately after Glee club or Cheerios practice every day. Ever since her escapades with Brittany she was officially grounded for the rest of her natural life but somehow seemed to manage to get out of it when the mood suited her. With a grin at seeing her father home from work early for once she threw herself into the chair opposite him at the dining room table and they stared at each other in anticipation. Santana's father raised an eyebrow, afraid to ask, because something was clearly up.<p>

"How was school?"

"Hmmm, 'kay."

Santana slapped down a sheet of paper in front of him, the permission slip for Nationals. Her father moved his hand to pick it up but her hand didn't budge from the top of it.

"I just want to say that," she paused and took a breath trying to think of the best way to say this. Her father rolled his eyes as he listened to her opening words.

"Stuff's gone down over the past year which, uh, is in the past and I think we should move beyond that now and," Santana winced, she was coming across as verbose as Finn. Her father gazed back at her while she babbled on.

"I swear I'll be good this time. Daddy, please consider it properly. It'll be school supervised, there's chaperones and responsible adults will be around all the time and just think of all those times I went to Nationals with the Cheerios and you didn't come and see me which _hurt,_ papi, that you didn't want to see our world dominating routines and... It hurt me and my feelings, which I have now, and I just want you to be proud of me you know, and I know I've screwed up multiple times, I mean, only twice, and not gotten away with it, but I'm getting better at it. At not screwing up not, like, getting away with it." Having managed to confuse herself, Santana paused for a moment as her father gave her a puzzled frown.

"What are you talking about?"

She removed her hand from the paper and he looked down at it. "Show Choir National Finals competition, New York City," he read aloud to himself. "Is this what all the fuss is about?"

"Look, I'll be straight up with you. Don't tell anyone I said this but I really really like Glee and Bri-, uh, I love it and we're in the finals that's how good we are."

"Of course you can go."

Santana's jaw almost hit the table top.

"I'm sorry, what? For what! What? Why? But... why aren't you freaking out and locking me in my room? You know Britt will be going too. You'll let me go to New York with Brittany? Are you out of your mind?" She stood up and slammed her fists down on the table yelling, "Who are you and what have you done with my father?"

"Santana!" Her father interrupted. With an uncontrollable ever so slightly sly grin she shut up and sat down shaking slightly in mild shock.

"You can go."

Santana's mouth open and closed like a brain dead goldfish. She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand."

"You can go. So long as you behave and nothing goes... haywire, this time."

Santana broke out into a big grin. "Really? Oh daddy, that's so awesome." She ran around the table and threw herself on him in a bear hug. "We're going to win! I have to go phone Britt. Nothing will go wrong this time!" And with that she ran up the stairs to her room to break the good news to her best friend.

Her father listened to her footsteps flying up the stairs and smirked as he said to himself.

"Oh, by the way, Santana. I forgot to tell you that I have a conference in New York that weekend so I will try my best to come and see you perform. If you screw up I will take you out of the competition and straight home with me." His smirk turned to a frown. "Fully chaperoned and I'll be there. Nothing could go wrong, surely."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

An almighty thud shuddered through the cheap chain hotel Schuester had selected for New Directions to stay in for the duration of their Nationals competition. In the lobby Will and the concierge he was conversing with looked up at the ceiling where the noise had come from then at each other.

Will had turned a blind eye when, with a wink towards their club director, Puckerman managed to drug most of the Glee club after a shouting match had begun at 6am in the parking lot between Kurt, Rachel and Quinn over the seating arrangements. Oddly enough Santana had been nowhere near the battle zone instead her head rested on Brittany's shoulder as she vainly tried for another two minutes precious sleep before boarding the Gleemobile. Under the influence of some heavy duty sedatives hidden in freshly squeezed and, more importantly, 'free' orange juice, they slept or were drowsy and non volatile for the duration of spending twelve hours together on a cramped bus. Unfortunately, now they were in New York, it meant they were all awake and raring to go.

"I- uh I'll just go check on the kids," Will muttered with a half hearted attempt at a smile.

As he ran up the staircase for two floors, unwilling to waste any more time than necessary to wait for the elevator, he could hear shouting from the floor the New Directions had taken over.

"The hell you will shortstack, get the fuck out of my room!" Santana yelled at Rachel who was insisting she and Quinn would get the room with the view of a couple of trees in one corner of Central Park.

"Rachel, let it go," Quinn said calmly. "Brittany thinks she might be able to see the ducks fly past to get to the pond from here and Santana will commit murder to get it."

"But-"

"That's right Stumpy, listen to Juno. And why are you even dressed like a rainbow?" Rachel opened her mouth to speak as Santana cast a scathing eye over her multi-coloured duffel coat. "Don't answer that. I cant listen to another word from another idiot. I just spent two whole hours of my life convincing Mr Schue to let me and B share a room. He got all confused and embarrassed because some half wit told him to separate us by sexual orientation. It wasn't until I pointed out he couldn't put us in with the boys or the girls going by that judgement that I had to bring up the married thing and then he got twice as mindfucked, started muttering in Spanish and when he realised I could understand what he was saying he turned bright red and actually ran away from me."

"What did he say in Spanish?" Rachel asked, intrigued.

Fortunately for Mr Schuester he interrupted what would have been a highly exaggerated and colourful interpretation of his words. "What on earth is going on here?" Will exclaimed as he found the door to Santana's room barricaded with the bed. Quinn and Rachel were on the one side in the hallway arguing over the top of the bed with Santana while behind her Brittany stared dreamily out of the window in the conquered room.

All the girls ignored him and Santana called over the bed. "Hey Q, how come you drew the short straw and have to share with Rachel? Ha! Gettit? Short straw."

"Very funny. I get to share with Rachel because as your bestie/girlfriend/wife, delete whichever isn't applicable or whatever you're going with today, dubbed Rachel our so called 'star player' she may need protecting, probably from you. It was a unanimous decision that as you're so very whipped and wouldn't allow you and B to be separated that I'm the only other person who could stop you from killing her."

"I am not whipped!" Santana shouted, indignantly.

They heard Puck shout from the room down the hall. "Yes you are!"

"Uh huh." Rachel and Quinn exchanged a smirk. "We all saw the wedding dvd, S. Invalid argument is invalid."

"Shut up! I could smack you down with my eyes closed and take Rachel out with my little finger."

"Think that all you want but I can at least hold you off until B gets there to stop you."

"B, can't sto-st-stuh..." Santana stuttered as Brittany came and wrapped her arms around her waist from behind, catching her off guard.

"Santana!" Will bellowed into the interruption, finally getting their attention. "Move that bed right now, it's a fire hazard. You've all got fifteen minutes to get ready. We're meeting in the lobby to go and register and maybe get a chance to check out the auditorium."

"Oh goody, re-con! A wise move Mr Schue. I see you finally came around to my way of thinking and read the notes I put together for you on competition tactics."

"Notes? Rachel, a twenty five page dossier does not constitute notes. Now get ready!"

A scream and a roar of laughter from the far end of the hall caught his attention. Santana smirked as he avoided making eye contact with her before continuing up the hallway to see what havoc the boys were wreaking. He pressed his hand to his brow trying to relieve some of the tension. These kids were going to kill him one day.

Eventually Mr Schue got everyone downstairs together and they decided to walk the five blocks to the auditorium where the competition was to be held. That may have been a mistake on Mr Schue's part because they all had to stop for hot-dogs on a street corner, which takes a while when there's fourteen of you. Late registration went on until 9pm so they might just scrape in on time. The next day would be spent rehearsing, the day after that the first round and if they made it through that, showcase.

* * *

><p>The group spread out around the foyer of the theatre the competition was being held as Mr Schue made his way over to the main desk. Notice boards with choir listings and schedules were dotted around the place along with a huge poster of last years winners, Vocal fucking Adrenaline.<p>

Quinn looked around with a frown when she heard Rachel muttering quietly to herself. "Calm, calm, deep breaths. Breathe deeply, and in, and out, and in, and out. Don't freak out." She was repeating over and over like a mantra. Quinn exchanged a glance with a curious Kurt who had also witnessed this and they walked over to see what it was which had Rachel so worked up. As they stood behind her she let out a steady "Wooooooooo," noise.

"Okay, sweetie," Kurt said rubbing her shoulders gently as he informed her, "You're being weird."

"Yeah, go be weird somewhere else," Santana sniped as she walked past them. Then she did a double take as they all stopped and stared at Rachel's discovery. She had found a board entitled 'Introducing Your Judges'. There was a short paragraph about each judge and their relevant musical experience and then a special section for the Guest Star Judge.

"Fuck, this is really happening," Santana said, staring hard at the board. She shook her head a little as though trying to come to her senses and added, "You're all fucking weird," and stalked off leaving Rachel and Kurt with their arms around each other, resting their heads together trying to draw strength from each other or some weird shit like that. Quinn just rolled her eyes and left them to it.

"Hi!" Mr Schue was, as usual, bursting with enthusiasm as he introduced the group to the miserable looking man sitting behind the registration desk. "We're New Directions, here to register." The club whooped and cheered at their name behind him and he turned to chuckle at their enthusiasm.

They all crowded around the registrar who looked thoroughly pissed off at this glee club coming in at the last minute when he could have been packed up and on his way home already. "Of course you are," he sighed. "One minute," he muttered and typed something into his computer. "Yeah," he drawled slowly. "Okay, figures this would happen to me at 8:57pm, three minutes before I knock off work." He looked up at Will and sneered. "Something's come up."

"What, is there a computer problem?"

"Nu uh, nothing as serious as that. There's a security alert against your club."

"What?" Will said, shocked, as the rest of the club looked around worried.

"Just a moment, the security team is on its way."

"What? I don't understand, what security notice? What's wrong?"

"You've been red flagged by the FBI. Where are Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce?" The registrar, whose name tag read 'Karl', asked seriously. Two huge security guards appeared beside him as if from nowhere.

"There they are!" Brittany called, pointing at a gob-smacked Rachel and Quinn.

"Nice try blondie, but your photos are in the system so I know it's you."

"We haven't even done anything, I swear! We just got here," Santana said in disbelief as Brittany nervously edged closer to her.

The phone on the desk rang and Karl held up a hand demanding silence.

"Hello?" His phone voice took on a less sneering quality as he spoke and more of a snivelling tone instead. "Yes ma'am. Security alert 'Mickey1'. Yes ma'am, they're here."

Santana took a step backwards pulling Brittany with her, preparing to flee if necessary. Puck and Quinn instinctively moved in front of them blocking the security guards path to them.

"Uh huh. Yes ma'am." He glanced beyond the dumbstruck group and said. "Yes ma'am, he's here. Thank you. You too, have great evening." And hung up. "George!" He shouted, making them all jump.

Brittany was now gripping Santana's wrist so hard she was going to have the fingermarks there for days.

"Over here!"

Everyone spun around to find huge heavily muscled black guy towering over them. He looked to be in his thirties and was dressed in a black suit with a black shirt. To top it off he sported a mohawk but this didn't mask the serious air of someone who could kill you with his little toe. He stepped toward Santana who had nudged Brittany behind her and Mr Schue.

"Hello Brittany, Santana. I'm George, your bodyguard during the competition while you are on these premises." His words immediately took the edge off the whole incident and Brittany smiled at him, liking him already. He grinned back at her and the tension within the group dissipated. He held out his hand for them to shake. Santana stared in disbelief at his hand the size of a dinner plate but Brittany pushed her arm past her and Mr Schue and bumped her fist with his.

"Hi George, cool hair," she grinned, and he couldn't help but give a deep chuckle.

"Thanks."

"A bodyguard? Why do they need a bodyguard?" Will asked, perplexed.

"Safety reasons. Well technically I'm supposed to keep _them_ from causing trouble." He smirked at the girls. "You have a reputation."

"This is crap," Santana snapped, not too pleased at how quickly Brittany had taken to him and just accepted that they had a bodyguard. "We don't need a baby sitter." She turned back to the registrar and scowled at him. "We don't need security. This is stupid, get rid of him."

"He doesn't work for us. It's nothing to do with the Show Choir board."

"What? Then why?" She turned back to see Brittany standing between Puck and George while they crouched down, running her hands over their mohawks.

"George's is cooler. It's so soft," she giggled. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Who do you work for?" She asked George suspiciously.

"I'm not at liberty to say," he grinned as the rest of New Directions took a turn to compare the two mohawks and then the guys started trying to make their biceps as big as George's.

"Oh great," Santana threw her arms up in irritation. "And he's a comedian."

"I thought you were a bodyguard," Brittany said, looking up at George, puzzled.

"I am," he winked.

"This is bullshit!"

"Santana, language!" Mr Schue warned. "Pardon us, George, but you gotta admit this is kinda unusual. Do you have ID or something?"

He handed over his ID card which Mr Schue scrutinised carefully, that and the fact that the registrar was expecting him seemed acceptable. "Also, I've got a password for Santana, if that's acceptable?" he raised an eyebrow hopefully at Santana who's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Well, what is then?" She snapped.

"Pixie stix."

Everyone stared at Santana waiting for a response. She glanced at Brittany who smiled knowingly. Slightly stunned, Santana slowly nodded her acceptance but didn't elaborate further for anyone else.

"Uh, right then... uh," Will stared around flabbergasted. "Are we registered then?"

"Upon condition that George is with those two at all times while on these premises," said Karl.

"Even when we have to pee?" Brittany asked, wide eyed.

"Nah," George said. "I trust you on that one."

Brittany tucked her arm in his and smiled up at her new friend. "Cool. C'mon guys. Let's go check out the auditorium."

"You can't. It's past nine and we're closing up now," snapped Karl, fed up to the back teeth with show choirs flouncing around making their stupid demands. One choir had come in covered in sequins and glitter which was still all over the floor, and broken into an impromptu rendition of 'New York, New York'. Awesome, cos he'd never heard that one before. Their sparkles had given him a headache and that had been before lunch. It had been a long ass day.

"Awwww," murmured Brittany quietly, scuffing her sneaker on the floor in disappointment.

George glanced over at Santana whose attention was, as ever, on Brittany. He watched as she observed Brittany's reaction intently, her expression confirmed everything he had been told earlier that day and everything he would ever need to know.

"No, you cant!" Rachel was gasping. "We have to see the stage! We have to be prepared, we need to know what we're dealing with, how large the room is, the acoustics, the lighting."

Karl grimaced and snapped, "You should have come earlier then instead of leaving it 'til the last minute."

George raised an eyebrow as Santana went off on the registrar. "Are you seriously telling me that I just spent twelve hours in a confined space with that guy's ass," she pointed at Puck, "Which I would bet hard liquor on the fact that something crawled up it and died, and that guy's armpits," she pointed at Finn who's eyes widened and then he tried to discreetly sniff his armpits. "Yous better lets us in or George here'll hafta sit on me to stop me from going all Lima Heights on yo ass, ripping that weave off of yo head and shoving it-"

"Hey!" George's voice rumbled around the foyer. "C'mon, I can take you guys in," and he walked towards the stairs with Brittany hanging off his arm who grabbed a hold of Santana as she went past. Rachel hurried after them not about to miss this opportunity to check out her stage. She hooked her elbow around George's free arm and they headed for the main arena. Puck gave the Karl the finger as they all filed past his scowling face.

Rachel pranced about on the stage, her imagination working overtime as she imagined the glory she would receive in two days time after winning everything. She stepped around Brittany and George who were sitting in the middle of the stage chatting. Santana sat on the edge of the stage her legs dangling off the side. George soon realised he only needed to stay close to one of the girls and the other would never be far away. Mr Schue was talking to a stage hand while Kurt was wandering around in a dreamy daze. Puck, Lauren and Artie were checking out the impressive sound system while the others explored.

"You know, you're much cooler than the last bodyguards we had," Brittany was telling George. "Santana made hers cry. Does this mean you have to do everything we tell you to?" Brittany asked, testing the waters.

"No, sorry, but it does mean you have to do everything I tell you to," he said, eyes twinkling. It was worth a shot.

"Ha!" Santana answered for both of them.

With a smile George pointed out to an area closed off from the main seating. "That's the judges box," he explained, as both girls looked over with interest.

"Uh huh. So..." Santana hinted.

"So," he repeated. "Just saying."

"When can we see her? Do you have her phone number? Can we call her? You don't have to give us her number we could use your phone," Brittany asked, hopefully.

"No, ladies, let's be absolutely clear on this. You cant have contact until after the competition or she'd be kicked off the panel and you'd be disqualified."

"We cant do that!" Brittany was frantic, torn between her fairy godmother and Nationals glory. "We're going to win, Lord Tubbington told me."

"B, Lord Tubbers is evil and planning to take over the world," Santana explained patiently. "You can't believe anything he tells you."

"Have you been talking to him again? That's the same thing he said about you."

Santana scowled.

"Who's Lord Tubbington?" George asked, too late he noticed Santana shaking her head frantically at him.

"You'd love him," Brittany enthused. "He's my four year old grey tabby." She then began to recite his lineage back to his great, great, great, grandfather, Lord Purrs-a-lot. "But Santana said I couldn't bring him with us. She pretends like she doesn't like him and he pretends the same but I know they do really."

Santana rolled her eyes. "You forgot to mention his warthog ancestors."

Brittany ignored the sarcasm and continued her explanation to her new friend. "I didn't want to leave him cos our neighbour Mr Reilly has been really horrible to him recently. He hates Lord T. He keeps saying that he leaves cigar butts on his lawn and once he tried sticking a nicotine patch on him. Tubs hated that, it got stuck to his fur and hurt when I tried to rip it off. I had to cover him in butter to get it to slide off and then he went around looking greasy for days afterwards. Santana wouldn't stop laughing at him."

"George, you got a pen?" Santana interrupted hastily.

"Uh yeah," he answered, somewhat dazed by Brittany's speech. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a black marker pen.

"Thanks. C'mon, B," Santana said, offering her hand which was immediately taken. Brittany grabbed the pen and unquestioningly followed Santana off the stage.

Mr Schue watched them warily but as George was with them thought they'd not get into much trouble. "Don't go further than the lobby," he called after them.

Ten minutes later, with their appetites for the inspecting the auditorium appeased apart from Rachel of course and Puck who wanted to know where all the trap doors were, they were ready to leave.

The grumpy registrar watched them go with a scowl. They were almost out of the door when he yelped. "Hey! Which one of you vandals defaced last years winner poster?"

They all looked around to see the giant image of the now named Vocal 'fucking' Adrenaline with the boys all proudly sticking out their man boobs, the girls all had beards, and the sun was now literally shining out of a devil horned, black eyed Sunshine Corazon's ass.

"Everyone was supervised, it wasn't any of my kids," Mr Schue protested.

"This ain't Nowhere, Ohio, you know. We'll have forensics here in a shot." Karl was furious now, buzzing around like a blue assed fly. "They'll do handwriting analysis and everything. You'll all be fingerprinted!" He yelled.

New Directions hurriedly backed out of the building trying not to make eye contact with the crazy man.

"Thanks for the pen, G," Santana handed it back with a sweet smile which he now understood to mean, danger. "See ya soon, I guess."

George stared after them as they all waved and shouted goodbye. Damn, they were good. He hadn't even seen them do it.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi pretty reviewers. Sorry for the delay but I went to see Glee live. I breathed the same air as Brittana. No biggie. asdfghjklk.  
>Can someone please for the love of anything tell me the correct way to spell schuester. Please. I beg.<em>

* * *

><p>3.<p>

It was midnight on the first night in New York and Mr Schuester had managed to somehow get everyone safely back to the hotel and up in their rooms, under orders to get some sleep ready for rehearsals starting at 9am the next day.

In her hotel room, Santana's eyes widened as she walked out of the bathroom only to be met with Brittany's ass sticking up in the air as she knelt on the floor with her head poking out of the door. Admiring the view for a moment she eventually cleared her throat and asked, "What are you doing?"

Brittany looked up and down the hallway then pulled her head back into the room. "Checking for spies."

"Oh, okay." Santana calmly accepted her explanation and sat down on the bed, once more enjoying the view as Brittany looked out of the door again.

With a mischievous smirk, Brittany got up and walked over to Santana settling down on her lap and wrapping her arms around her neck. "Uh, you left the door open." Santana couldn't hide the grin on her face.

"I know. We're going out."

"What?" The grin faded. "We are? B, we can't. We have to be up early for rehearsals."

"Awww, are you getting old? Do you need your beauty sleep?" Brittany teased. Santana scowled but Brittany put a hand to her forehead and pretended to smooth out the wrinkles. "Hmm, I guess we do have a busy day tomorrow but, I still want to sneak out."

"Or we could just stay in the room?" Santana suggested, hopefully.

"Nice try." Brittany poked her on the nose.

Santana sighed, "Okay then."

Brittany jumped up pulling Santana to the door. "C'mon."

They stuck their heads out of the doorway. From down the hall it appeared as though Santana's head was floating at eye level and Brittany's at waist height. They quickly glanced along the hallway left and right. It was all quiet. They took off their shoes and padded quietly down the hall, Santana couldn't help but smile as she watched Brittany tiptoe, as though that actually worked in real life.

"What about Quinn?"

"What about Quinn?" Santana asked nonchalantly, as Brittany just watched her patiently. Santana rolled her eyes.

"As awesome a tag team as we are, when the three of us get along it's pretty fun too, and Quinn needs to have fun too sometimes."

"To rescue her from Rachel." Santana sniggered at the thought of what Quinn was having to put up with that weekend. "Okay, I admit she can be kinda cool when she let's that stick up out of her butt." Brittany tilted her head to the side slightly. "Fine. I guess she has been a little more chilled out this year. So long as she doesn't try and wind me up."

"I wont let her."

Santana grumbled under her breath but the decision had been made as Brittany tapped lightly on Quinn's door and whispered. "Quinn." tap-tap-tap. "Quinn" tap-tap-tap. "Quinn."

Santana flinched with horror as Rachel opened the door, bleary eyed, her hair wildly sticking out all over the place. "What?" she asked in a croaky, sleep filled voice. "Is it time for rehearsals?"

"Jeez, did you get laid? Lookit your hair!"

"No shhh," Brittany intervened, speaking soothingly like a Rachel whisperer. "Go back to bed, Rachel. Rest your voice." Rachel nodded in agreement, still half asleep. "We just need to talk to Quinn."

"She's asleep."

"Pffft" Santana made a funny noise from over Brittany's shoulder.

"Rachel," Brittany explained, patiently. "Cheerios never sleep."

"Yeah, she can sleep when she's dead," Santana said, pushing past Rachel and jumping straight onto Quinn's bed. "Coming out?" She asked the lump under the bed clothes before collapsing on top of her and squashing the reply.

"Mmmmpohhh bleurgh."

"Really Q, really? You're just gonna let us go run amok on the streets of Manhattan? What kind of a friend are you? You should be running amok with us, you lightweight."

"Argggggh! Get off me, S. I don't know what was in that juice Puck gave us on the bus but my head is banging."

"You should know by now never to accept anything Puck is offering."

"Preaching to the choir," Quinn muttered.

"Come with us," Brittany whispered softly in Quinn's ear.

"Just some air, Q. That's all we're doing, going for some air. Then back to bed like good girls."

*SSNNOORREE!*

Three heads turned simultaneously to look over horrified at Rachel's comedic loud snoring.

"10 minutes," Quinn said, laying down the law.

"10 minutes," the other two promised with innocent smiles.

They stealthily padded down the hallway to the elevator. Quinn still in her pyjamas with a Cheerios hoody hastily thrown over the top. Quinn rested her head on Brittany's shoulder tiredly as they waited for the doors to open. They could hear Rachel snoring from the other end of the corridor. The elevator pinged open and the trio stepped inside, all breathing easier once the doors were shut behind them.

"What's that?" Quinn asked, eyebrow raised, as Brittany pulled a sheet of crumpled paper from Santana's cleavage.

"A complete list of all competing show choirs, hotels they are staying at and any studios or rehearsal space they may have hired."

Quinn stared in amazement at Brittany. "Where did you get it?"

"Santana's boobs. Are you still asleep?"

"I meant, where did it come from before it got anywhere near Santana's rack?"

"At the theatre when that guy was going crazy nuts on everyone."

"Stop checking out my fine rack Q," Santana teased.

"You're like a ninja," Quinn said, ignoring Santana's jibe.

Brittany smiled at the compliment as Santana watched on amused, well aware Brittany possessed inexplicable superpowers.

"What's the mission?" Quinn demanded, now fully aware this wasn't a ten minute stroll for some fresh air. "I thought you weren't into the sabotage plan the boys had."

"I'm not. It's just some dead fish."

"Dead fish?" Quinn asked, now totally bewildered.

"Uh huh. Dump some dead fish in Vocal Adrenaline's rehearsal room to remind them of how much they stink. They've booked a dance studio a few blocks from here."

Quinn glanced over at Santana. "This is how you get into so much trouble, isn't it?" Santana shrugged. "Okay, I'm in."

Momentarily in agreement and generally happy all round they turned to face the elevator doors as they pinged open. The metal doors slid open to reveal Mr Schue standing in front of the doors, his arms folded, staring straight at them. They stared back blankly, no one moving. After an awkward pause, Santana reached up and pressed the button for their floor.

"Just came to say goodnight, Mr Schue," said Quinn, with her sweet 'little Miss Innocent' smile.

"Goodnight girls," he replied, with a knowing smile.

The doors closed on them and Mr Schue walked over to the bar where he had a full view of the elevators and ordered a beer.

"I guess I'll go smother Rachel instead," Quinn sighed.

Santana and Brittany exchanged a grin and grabbed a hold of Quinn as the elevator opened back on their floor again. "Fire escape."

They scrambled down the rickety metal staircase on the outside of the old building trying not to raise a racket and wake all the hotel guests. "I cant believe you were going to let us walk around without the Quinn bitch glare for protection." Santana was muttering as they clambered down. "Imagine all the weirdos out there, all sorts of shady characters in need of a tongue lashing from you, and you were just going to walk away."

"Wait, where are we going to get dead fish from?" Quinn pondered, as she climbed over a sack full of rubbish someone had left out on the fire escape. "Now there's a question I never thought I'd ask."

"Trust B." Santana replied.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

They followed Brittany down the final ladder onto the alley alongside the hotel where they found Puck leaning up against the wall with a plastic bag at his feet.

"Ladies," he wiggled an eyebrow at them.

"See," Santana nudged Quinn. "Here's a weirdo now."

"Didya get it?" Brittany asked.

"Of course I did, the Puckster never fails." He pushed the bag over to Brittany with his feet. "Have fun, and remember Britt, the wild duck wakes at dawn." Brittany nodded seriously and they fist bumped. Puck cast a wild salute to his puzzled looking ex-girlfriends and sauntered off to the main entrance to the hotel. He nodded to a confused Mr Schue who was still lurking in the lobby waiting for trouble makers and who hadn't even seen him leave.

"Now what?"

"Follow me," Brittany replied in a sing song voice and led the way holding the plastic bag of rotting fish out in front of her at arms length.

They found the dance studio by simply walking down the streets, hand in hand in hand, in the cool night air. Brittany was in the middle swinging their arms back and forth. As was to be expected, Vocal Adrenaline were able to afford the best of the best and security for their building was tight. Quinn watched in amazement at Brittany and Santana in action, beginning as Santana stood back and let Brittany take charge.

"Darn it." Brittany tried to scowl at the sight of the security guard but it only ever came out as a grumpy pout. "The easiest thing to do would be to go in through the front door."

"Quinn's an unreliable resource. She's not been tested under pressure," Santana pointed out then waited and watched on in pure amusement as Quinn took the bait.

"What?" Quinn spluttered. "Excuse me, who led the Cheerios to two Nationals titles whilst trying to beat Santana off my heels trying to steal my position? I know all about pressure!"

"We'll have to come back in the morning," Brittany mused, ignoring Quinn's outburst. "And pretend to be part of Vocal Adrenaline and sneak in with them. It's doable if someone distracts Rachel and Mr. Schue."

Brittany shook her head at some mystifying internal thought and then turned to Santana. "No, Q can do it," she nodded assuredly. An unspoken agreement passed between the couple.

"Whatever," Santana eye rolled.

"Cool. Let's do it. You two are the distraction. Q, follow Santana's lead. Execute scenario seven."

"What's that?" Quinn gasped, horrified at what she may have let herself in for.

"It means try and cry if you can, that always works. I only need about 5 minutes."

Santana nodded, slung her arm around Quinn's shoulder and jabbed her hard in the ribs with her elbow. Winded, Quinn doubled over in pain unable to shout. "Cry you big baby," Santana hissed in her ear as she dragged her over to the door of the studio where the security guard could be seen behind a desk. For good measure, Santana pinched Quinn's side making her twitch and scream. "Cry!"

"Hey! How about some help?" Santana banged on the door of the studio. The guard came to the door and eyed them suspiciously.

"What?"

"My friend, she's uh really sick. She's uh, sick and...," her eyes lit up at a wicked thought. "Pregnant! I know such a shame in one so young." Quinn glared daggers at her from where she was crouched over. "We just need to use a phone to call for a ride."

Seeing they were nothing more than two harmless teenagers, he let them in and led them to the front desk to use the phone. Quinn sat down with a moan of pain and then proceeded to cry crocodile tears, all the while plotting the many ways to get Santana back for her aching ribs as she overheard her bullshit the night guard.

"She slept with her boyfriend's best friend who got her knocked up and then I'm pretty sure he gave her drugs this morning just so she'd shut up complaining about stuff." Santana paused for breath and pretended to use the phone, looking up a minute later. "Our, er, friend. He's gonna pick us up at the junction."

"Are you sure? You can stay here, it's safer," the all too kind guard offered.

"No thanks. He'll only be 5 minutes. Thanks for all your help mister. You've been such a help I don't know what I'd have done. I can't believe my friend, Rachel here, went and got herself in trouble, again. It's not the first time its happened."

Quinn gritted her teeth and grabbed Santana by the back of her neck before she could spout off any more nonsense and dragged her towards the exit. The bitch was enjoying this way too much. They left the building in a hurry, Quinn stumbling out and groaning as they made their way back to the corner where they had left Brittany, Santana giggling all the way. Luckily, Brittany popped up a moment later, just in time to intercept the inevitable fight.

"What?" Santana was protesting, her hands raised. "It was all true."

"He thinks I'm some knocked up, junkie teenager!"

"And?"

"I'M NOT PREGNANT!" Quinn roared. "Or on drugs."

"Not anymore, but that doesn't make it not true."

"You bitch."

"You can talk."

"You're the bitch, you punched me."

"You weren't crying."

Brittany watched with thinly veiled amusement, and waited.

"You're the crier, everyone knows that." They glared at each other. "God, you annoy me so much. All the shit you come up with and Brittany still sticks by you."

Santana blinked in confusion at the turn this argument was taking. "What?"

"You're so disgustingly adorable together."

"Hang on, didn't we have this argument last year?"

"Yes, but," she punched Santana hard in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"I'm proud of you. For keeping your shit together, even though when you smile all the time it freaks me out. Also, for winding me. That hurt."

"You're crazy. Actually, factually crazy."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

"You two are so cute," Brittany awwed at them."Trying to tell each other you love each other."

"Do not!" Santana looked disgusted.

"Shut up," Quinn scowled like grumpy child.

"Don't tell her to shut up," Santana snapped at her. Intercepting Santana, Brittany grabbed them both around the neck and noogied them gently with a big smile on her face.

"What's next?" Quinn wriggled from Brittany's grasp trying not to appear flustered while Santana simply snuggled in closer.

"This way!" Brittany happily pulled them along, for once leading the unholy trinity.

* * *

><p>The bright neon signs of Times Square lit up the night sky as Quinn and Santana stared around happily at the bustling place. Even after midnight the place was still buzzing. They heard Brittany fumble with something behind them and turned to find a camera lens in their faces.<p>

"Welcome to the New York edition of Fondue for Two!" Brittany spoke into the camera microphone as it was trained on the two surprised girls. "I'm here in Times Square with my two best friends Santana and Quinn. Although Santana is more than my best best friend she's more like my-"

"Britt!" Santana hurriedly interrupted. "What are you doing with that video camera?"

"I'm making an on location episode of Fondue for Two!, because you two always disappear whenever I try to get you on the show. This time there's no fondue. Can we get a kebab instead?"

Santana and Quinn exchanged a mutual grimace. "If we must."

"I guess."

"The last location episode was really popular, like, the second most popular episode ever. You know, the one where I interviewed the Glee football guys when they won some kind of game. Sam and Puck started doing a striptease, then the whole locker room joined in! Although Coach threw me out before we got to the really good part."

"Hey!" Santana looked shocked at that remark.

"What? It was funny."

"What was the most popular episode?" Quinn wondered.

"When I interviewed Santana. Only we forgot the camera was on and kicked it over so you couldn't actually see anything but you could hear when-"

"Brittany!"

Brittany caught the hint. "So, are you guys excited to be in New York for show choir Nationals?"

"Ecstatic," Santana deadpanned, while furiously wondering if she should have paid more attention to Brittany's ridiculous melted cheese show and how could she get a hold of those videos without Brittany noticing.

"We're very excited," Quinn tried to sound a bit more enthusiastic.

Someone bumped into Santana knocking her into Quinn. "Hey, watch it!" She snarled after him.

"You watch it, standing in the street like a dumb ass," the man answered back.

Santana rounded on her heel to jump on him but Quinn grabbed her around the waist then turned and spoke into the camera. "Here we find Santana Lopez in her natural environment, the violent streets of New York where the prey fights back."

"This is good, you should come on Fondue for Two! more often, Q. You should put a reminder on your phone so you don't 'forget' again," Brittany smiled at her.

"Uh, no problem. Can we get out of here before Santana gets us murdered or I murder her?"

With a wary eye on a tired and grumpy Santana, Brittany tucked the camera away and let out an impressive whistle. A cab screeched to a halt alongside them. They piled in the back, tiredness finally catching up with them, apart from Brittany who leaned forward to talk to the driver. "Hey, Mr cab driver man. If you were a mega star, where would you stay?"

"Uh, I guess the biggest most swankified place in town."

"I think she lives here Britt." Quinn muttered with her eyes closed, resting her head back on the seat.

"Do you know where Barbra Streisand lives?" Brittany rephrased her original query.

The driver turned and fixed Brittany with a thoughtful gaze. "No."

"Oh, okay, but if you were Barbra Streisand, where do you think you would live?"

"I'm only Barbra on my weekend off, sweetheart, and I live in Brooklyn."

"Britt, we have no idea where she'll be. Our best chance is to find her at Nationals."

Brittany huffed and slumped back against the seat in between the two girls. "I'm hungry," she observed as her stomach rumbled.

Santana ordered the cab to stop on a corner hosting a kebab stand. She wound down the window and leaned out to grab the nearest kebab then threw a note at the vendor. "Keep the change!" Brittany beamed and kissed Santana on the cheek as she handed it to her then snuggled into her side as they all stared at the kebab wondering what kind of meat it was.

* * *

><p>The next morning the girls were rudely awoken by a loud thundering banging noise at the hotel room door. Santana opened one eye to see Brittany's head resting on her stomach and Quinn's socked foot almost in her mouth. "Urgh."<p>

"Where's Quinn? Did you kidnap her last night?" Rachel demanded through the door before Brittany opened it and then crawled back into bed. "Oh," she stuttered as she saw Quinn's head poking out from under the bedcovers.

"We were talking and fell asleep," Quinn felt the need to explain, her voice muffled as she hid back under the covers trying to block out the light.

"Your feet taste like shit," Santana grumbled, licking her lips and trying to get some moisture back into them.

"I feel sick," Quinn moaned.

"What is that smell?" Rachel turned her nose up in disgust.

"Ugh Britt, what did you do with that kebab?"

"It smelt funny, I didn't want it."

"Oh my god. Where is it? Please tell me it's not in the bed with us."

"I don't know. I think I put it down in the bathroom."

"Next to the heated towel rail?"

"Is that what that is? I thought it was a sock warmer."

"Eeewww gross." Rachel looked horrified. "You are worse than the boys. This is disgusting."

"It's a cheerio sandwich," Puck gasped reverently as he peered into the room over Rachel's shoulder closely followed by a curious Finn, Mercedes and Sam. "I had a dream like this once," Puck's eyes glazed over at the happy memory.

"Mailman, mailman, mailman," Finn disappeared down the hallway and ran into his room.

"No Finn, we have to-," an exasperated Rachel called after him, "go." She finished her sentence as the door slammed shut.

"You know what would make this even better?" Puck whispered in a daze. "Even more than if I was in the middle of that smoking hot Cheerio sandwich." He pushed Rachel into the room. "If you joined them."

Mercedes nudged Puck. "You're drooling."

A well aimed pillow hit Rachel in the face. "Go 'way." She caught the pillow before it hit the floor.

Puck's jaw dropped as she stepped into the room. "Oh my lord, am I still dreaming?" he whispered hoarsely.

"GET UP GET UP GET UP! We've got rehearsals and a Nationals competition to win. EVERYBODY UP NOW!" Rachel bellowed and slammed the door shut leaving the three girls groaning. They rolled over and burrowed back under the covers.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

It took less than fifteen minutes for the Glee club to be thrown out of their hotel. They had been using Rachel and Quinn's room to practice in, it being the biggest, which Rachel had finally accepted as a viable substitute to losing the room with a view to Santana. "Much like getting the biggest dressing room, I should begin to get used to it."

The raucous and unpolished choreography thumped through the floor and loud singing interspersed with Rachel demanding everyone shut up while she showed them how to do it properly, soon annoyed the guests and management and they were very impolitely asked to not use the hotel as a rehearsal space.

"That's my bed!" Rachel squealed, as something crunched and Finn's foot plunged through to the floor.

"Oops, sorry," he grimaced, apologetically.

"That's the most action that bed will ever see," Puck snorted with laughter.

"Shut up, Puck," Rachel snapped at him.

"That's the security deposit gone," Mr Schue sighed in defeat.

"I guess you'll have to share with Quinn," Santana suggested gleefully, only to have Quinn's knuckles instantly bruising her thigh. "Ouch! But seriously Quinn, this weird friendship thing you've got going on. What is that?"

"You know, Rachel," Quinn ignored Santana and looked over at her room-mate who was checking out the broken slats under her bed in dismay. "I've got a new hobby, you should join me. It's called, 'playing Santana' and it's so very, very easy and fun to do. Care to join me?"

Santana glared menacingly at Rachel.

"Uh no. It might be wiser if I didn't," Rachel replied, as she pushed Finn and Sam away, their attempts to repair the bed were making things worse. "She might kill me."

"You wish you could wind me up, Quinnie bear." Quinn shoved her off the arm of the couch where she was perched next to her. "Hey, hands off, Fabray! You've missed your chance. I'm taken."

"Whatever. It's taken me a while, I admit, but I've just figured out how to get you back for all the teasing."

"Not a chance. You cannot defeat me." Santana scrunched her nose up in amusement and sat back in her seat. With a smirk, she took a deep breath and called across the room, "Britt, Q's hitting on me!"

Brittany sauntered over to plonk herself on Santana's lap and laid her arm around Quinn's neck running her long fingers lightly along the girl's neck. Quinn shifted uncomfortably well aware of Santana's smug grin.

"Quinn, you should have said something earlier. It's too late now, there were vows, otherwise," she winked at Quinn with a cheeky grin. "I always totally wondered what stretch marks would feel like with my tongue."

Quinn's jaw dropped and the shocked attention of the rest of the rooms occupants was fixed on the three girls. Totally flustered, she went bright red and began to splutter incoherently.

Santana roared with laughter hugging Brittany closer and dropping an adoring kiss on her bare shoulder. "Britt, you are the perfect woman. So very, very wanky."

"Alright, everybody out!" shouted Mr Schue, before things could get any more uncomfortable for him and before more furniture could be broken. "Rachel, we'll ask for a new bed or get another room. Just leave it."

"We could go to the park?" Sam suggested. "There's loads of room and we wont be in anyone's way. And its a beautiful day out."

"That's a great idea, Sam." Mr Schue pounced on the idea with relief, thankful for a distraction from the awkward teenage drama. "You heard the man, move out!"

"Wow," Brittany whispered in Santana's ear. "Singing in the park, like Enchanted." Santana did not look enthused at that thought.

* * *

><p>Once in the park they made their way to an wide open grassy space away from the paths where people wouldn't get annoyed by them or eavesdrop, as Rachel described it, on their 'National's Winning Performance'.<p>

"I needs me some ice cream. Dig deep Mr Schue!" Santana dragged Brittany off in the direction of a carefully scouted ice cream stand and the rest trailed after them, convinced Mr Schuester was treating them to a cone each.

The group strolled along in the dappled shade of a tree lined path focused on eating their expensive ice cream. If someone else was paying then why not go for high quality, high cost, good stuff? A group of half a dozen children suddenly overtook them running and shouting happily to each other as they headed for the ice cream stall the glee club had just vacated. Brittany smiled at them as she watched them pass.

"I hope our kids look like you," Brittany said unexpectedly to Santana who was walking along, until then contentedly, beside her. The entire glee club turned their heads simultaneously to scrutinise Santana's reaction to Brittany's innocent words.

The ice cream cone she was carrying slipped out of her suddenly weak fingers and her eyes, momentarily unseeing, made her walk into a signpost. Sam's cone tilted dangerously as he leaned around Tina to watch the girls, he didn't even notice as his vanilla scoop hit the deck with a soft 'thwap'. Finn missed his mouth and stabbed himself in the cheek with his ice cream cone, wiping it quickly with his sleeve before anyone noticed. Fortunately for him everyone was focused on Santana.

"Ow shit," she squeaked, furiously rubbing her forehead.

Puck yelled with laughter and the rest of group sniggered and snorted at the unusually flustered Santana who was now being worriedly comforted by Brittany gingerly rubbing her bruised head. "I'm sorry," she said, softly.

"I'm fine, don't poke it, it hurts," Santana snapped, pushing Brittany's hand away a little more forcefully than she intended.

Brittany's brow furrowed, she knew she'd made one of those comments she wasn't supposed to say out loud and now Santana was mad. She looked mournfully down at the ice cream splattered at their feet. "I'll get you another ice cream," she muttered, with a hitch in her voice identifying her as close to tears. Santana watched as she left to give her some distance for her cooling off period, with a hand to her head trying to ignore the oblivious sniggering alongside her.

"I guess Britt really is a knock-out," Puck laughed.

Taking pity on the poor girls Mercedes changed topic and soon got them all talking as they waited for Brittany to return. "What are we going to do on the day off in between first round and showcase?"

"You're so sure we're getting through?" Kurt asked.

"Not if we don't get our rehearsal on," Rachel huffed, getting progressively more annoyed by the lack of urgency her friends were displaying. "It's not a day off! It's a rehearsal day."

"You can stop laughing now, Quinn," Santana hissed at the girl next to her who was sporadically bursting out into a fit of giggles. When she didn't stop Santana elbowed her in the ribs causing her to fall off the wall they were perched on and collapse into a heap on the ground, still laughing. Her odd, mini snorts were infectious and soon again they were all laughing at the still mortified Santana.

"I hate you all!" she shouted and then scowled until Brittany returned with a new ice cream.

"I got you extra sprinkles," she explained, her voice sheepish but with a hopeful side smile. "And a popsicle so you can hold it to your head. They didn't sell frozen peas."

"Thanks," Santana said softly then she hooked her arm in Brittany's and pulled her down to sit next to her in the spot previously occupied by Quinn.

"I'm sorry," Brittany whispered.

"It's okay, just not in front of everyone, yeah?"

"Okay. Why's Quinn on the floor?"

"It's where she belongs. At my feet. She should get used to it," Santana said, holding a blackcurrant flavour popsicle to her head and watching as Brittany ate the ice cream she'd just gone to get her.

"We still have to rehearse," Rachel was beginning to vent steam from her ears. "There are two new numbers to perfect."

"Chill out, Rachel!" Puck rolled his eyes. "This is like a less lame version of a team bonding experience."

"Yeah, If we aren't ready now then we'll never be. Stop freaking out about it," Mercedes added.

"I want to go see the Statue of Liberty," Tina said, getting back on the topic they were all most interested in, apart from Brittany and Santana's future babies.

"Yeah, like in X-men, when-" Sam noticed the slightly pained stares from the girls as he got his geek on. "Never mind."

"I don't want to see it," Brittany said quietly to Santana. "It's creepy. There's people inside her head."

"That's okay, we don't have to go with these tourists. We can go do something else."

"Like what?"

"What about the Empire State building?" Finn said excited at the thought. "I want to get a photo for my mom."

Santana turned green at the thought. "No, just no."

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Tina asked.

"I fell asleep in front of the TV one night and woke up to find Brittany watching the end of 'King Kong'. It wasn't pretty."

"And you don't like heights," Brittany whispered.

"Shhh. Yes, okay. Maybe that too, but if you want to see them... You should go with Q. Keep an eye on her and Rachel. I don't trust them."

"Why not?"

"I think they're plotting to steal our room."

"I don't want to go if you're not there," Brittany murmured, while fixing a suspicious glance at Rachel who was pulling Quinn up from off the ground.

"I'll go, too."

"No, 'cos you'll get upset and shout at strangers."

"That almost never happens any more, and I just want to spend the day with you."

"You mean like a date?" Brittany asked. Santana noticed she raised her voice so the others could hear her and fixed her with a large, blue eyed, hopeful gaze. "Will you go on a date with me? Tomorrow. We've never been on a date," Brittany realised.

"We've been on loads of dates," Santana hissed, now that everyone was paying their conversation careful attention, again. What the hell was up with Brittany getting all serious, serious all of a sudden.

"Hmmm, but they weren't called dates. I want an official date."

"I took you to Disney World!" Everyone gave her a pitying stare, Brittany included. "What?"

"It doesn't count if the date is a total disaster," Kurt pointed out.

"No one died, I'd call that successful."

"Whatever, Santana. You're doing everything backwards. You cant get married first and then get worried about a first date," Quinn snorted, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

"I'm not worried about anything. And will you shut up or go away? Or even better, both."

"It's no use, Santana. We all saw your wedding dvd." Mercedes pointed out. "We all know you're a sucker."

Fuuuuuuuck. Santana was about a second away from stabbing herself with the melting popsicle until, "Attention, team mates!" Rachel interrupted. Santana had never been so happy to hear Rachel's voice in her life. "Enough of one of Santana's emotional crisis for today. I've done exstensive researcha nd according to Google maps, just over this hill is where we'll practice. We're far enough away from cover so that if any spies from rival choirs pass us by or try to sneak up on us we'll be able to see them."

"The other choirs will be rehearsing indoors in their air conditioned studios, away from the bugs," said Kurt, flicking a flying beetle from his shoulder, "And sticky, screaming children and wet dogs." He shuddered as a dog burst out of the lake where it had been swimming in circles frantically chasing a lazy duck, ran straight for them and shook it's heavy coat close enough to Mike and Finn to soak them.

"C'mon guys," Mr Schue tried to regain control before Rachel took over completely. "We've got two first round numbers to perfect and we'll run through the showcase one's as well, even though we'll have another day to get those down if-"

"Ahem."

"Hey!"

"Sorry," he responded to the outcries. "_When_, we place in the finals." The group let out a cheer.

Will watched them with pride as they went about rehearsing acapella without the aid of any instruments and put their all into the numbers, clearly loving every second of performance.

Finn drummed on the railings, park bench and trash can with a couple of sticks. Artie beat boxed, Mike and Brittany free styled, gliding then popping and locking to the beat as the rest began to sing.

As Finn closed his eyes and hammered down harder with the sticks on his makeshift drum kit, Brittany stopped and watched as his arms moved frantically, his head bobbed wildly and it all happened... in time to the beat. She realised, he could dance.

Brittany nudged Mike and they both watched, Mike nodding excitedly with a grin as he realised what she was telling him. It was better late than never but it was about time Finn had a dancing lesson.

"Hey," Brittany stood next to him. "I got something to show you. Give me a beat."

"Huh?" Finn gaped cluelessly.

"You know, a four four rock beat. Just count it."

"1-2-3-4," unsure, he began to count. "1-2-3-4."

Brittany nodded, "Keep going." She performed some moves they had just been practising and moved in time to his counting.

"Dancing is like drumming," she explained. "You've just gotta feel the beat." Catching on to what she was doing, Mike stood on his other side and joined in. "1-2-3-4," they counted together. "Leg, leg, arm, arm, leg, arm, leg, hands. 1-2-3-4."

The rest of the group gathered around, eager to join in but with their attention on him Finn soon fumbled and miss-stepped. "Damn, I cant do it! It's too late to teach me to dance, I cant do it!" He threw his arms up and began to walk away, frustration written all over his face.

Brittany grabbed his arm and turned him to face her, the sincerity in her eyes earning her a reprieve from his petulant temper. "One more time. Only this time, close your eyes, and then listen to my voice. Now, start up the beat again."

He sighed but followed her command. "1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4."

"Keep it going." His head began to nod in time to the beat. "Leg on the on the one and move your shoulders with it, like you're using the bass drum. Left arm on the three, like the snare."

She started off tapping the limbs she wanted him to move but soon stopped as he caught on. "One and two and three and four. Leg and two and arm and four. Say it with me." They kept the beat together for a while until she said: "Open your eyes." He kept moving but opened his eyes warily to see Mike and Brittany standing alongside him mirroring his movements.

"Dude," Sam gasped. "You're moving. Like, your limbs are moving together, all coordinated."

"Shit Finn, you're dancing," Puck stared in amazement.

"What the hell?"

"Someone video it, quick!" Mike nudged him teasingly while smiling proudly at his friend.

"How did you do that?" Finn grinned excitedly at his teacher as she held up her hand for a high five. The whole group pounced on them and they all fell to the floor in a failed high five pile up.

"It just clicked, watching you drumming and moving. I've got a drum kit but I'm only allowed to use it when my mom's not home," her head dipped sadly, "And when Santana's not over. Lord Tubbington chewed my drumsticks, I tried using bread sticks instead but they broke and when Santana found out..." she dropped her voice. "She got a bit upset." Brittany gulped at the memory. "Actually, she went crazy saying I was wasting the food of the gods and confiscated them. She even took the crumbs."

"I've got some spare drumsticks you can have," Finn smiled at her. "I'm not saying I can dance but, it makes a bit more sense now. Thanks Brittany."

"You're welcome," she beamed back. "Let's try again and work out something for the group number."

Rachel watched them with something akin to jealously flashing behind her eyes. She and Finn were currently 'on' again but it had been a bumpy year of break ups and make ups. Even thought Brittany's track record for the year had been pure gold, with her being totally committed to Santana, Rachel was still slightly suspicious.

Santana caught her watching them and with only a slight rise of one eyebrow she forced Rachel to flush and look away.

"One more time, Mr Schue! We need to incorporate Finn's new, last minute dancing..., for want of a better word, skills."

Mr Schuester sighed. "One more wont hurt I guess. But that's it the last one and then we deserve pizza. Acres and acres of pizza."

They soon gathered a crowd as they did a full run through. Only this time, under watchful eyes and honestly earned and well deserved support, they stepped up their performance a gear as they went through their routines. They span round into final positions to loud cheering and round of applause from their impromptu audience who had all watched happily on.

"Once more?" Rachel asked, hopefully basking in the attention the crowd were lavishing on them.

"No, Rachel. There is such a thing as over rehearsing. We are going to relax this evening and not worry about a thing," Mr Schuester tried to stand his ground.

"But we've an audience. We cant let them down."

"No more, Rachel!"

"God, you're like a tiny little drill sergeant, buzzing in a tin." Kurt groaned his exhaustion. "That's enough or we won't be able to move tomorrow."

"That's it then," Rachel murmured. "No more practice, no more rehearsal. The next time we do this it'll be the real thing." It was a sobering thought.

"We're ready," Finn smiled at her.

"If Rachel thinks we're ready, then I guess we might be ready," Kurt deigned to agree. "Are we ready?"

With a glance to the disbanding audience, Rachel smiled.

* * *

><p>On the walk back out of the park Brittany gave Santana a piggy back which ended up as a race with Mike who had Tina on his back. The rest of the club sauntered along enjoying the relaxing atmosphere of the park and watched the people whiz by on roller blades, cyclists, joggers and dog walkers.<p>

Tired out after a hard days rehearsing under the watchful eye of perfectionist glee club captain, Santana slipped down off Brittany's back and walked alongside her. Brittany's gaze lingered for a while on a middle aged couple wearing matching tracksuits as they jogged under a bridge and out of view and she grabbed Santana's hand, swinging their arms between them.

"We should get matching t-shirts, hers and hers," she mused, her eyes still on the couple and oblivious to the way Santana's eyes widened at her thought. Santana looked horrified then mustered up a non committal, "Really?"

"That's a brilliant idea." Quinn stuck her head over their shoulders from where she was walking behind them with Mercedes, who was trying not to snort aloud with laughter. "I'll go get them for you, those tourist shops should sell some good ones! Maybe with the Statue of Liberty wearing rainbow robes." Quinn pushed past Santana, eager to annoy her after the embarrassment she'd suffered earlier. Santana grabbed her quickly before she could get away and held her back, tightly gripping her wrist.

"No, don't," she growled.

"I insist." Quinn tried to wrestle free from Santana's grip.

"I cant let you do that."

"No really what are friends for? I'll even pay for them."

"I hate you," Santana forced out between gritted teeth.

"Santana," Brittany whispered into her ear. With the dazed girl's full attention she gave her a teasingly sweet smile. "I was kidding. Breathe."

Santana let out a visible sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>Later that evening, back at the hotel Santana put up a hand to stop Rachel from following them into her and Brittany's room. "Uh, and where do you think you're going?"<p>

"In here."

"Your sense of direction must be really fucked. Maybe it's because you're so low down to the ground. This is _our_ room."

She looked even further taken aback as Quinn stepped up behind Rachel clearly about to follow her. Santana crossed her arms blocking the doorway completely and put on scowl number three. "Explain."

"Quinn," Brittany sighed. "I'm not gonna lick your stretch marks. I'm just putting that out there."

"I don't have any, anymore!"

"Mr Schue!" Rachel shouted down the hall to the coach to come and rescue them before events spiralled any more out of control.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry I may have forgotten to mention this but, tonight you girls will have to share your room with Rachel and Quinn."

"Hell no."

"Why?"

"The management said they need 24 hours to repair the damage from the mornings 'rehearsal' and there are no spare rooms. You've got two queen sized beds it wont hurt to share for one night."

"This is one of your jokes, right, Mr Schue? Cos it ain't funny. So it must be one of yours."

"Sorry," he shrugged, attempting to appear apologetic. "It's only for the one night."

Rachel and Quinn pushed past a disgruntled Santana and threw their bags on the one bed which obviously hadn't been used the previous night by either one of the girls.

Out of the corner of her eye Quinn thought she saw a smirk ghost across Santana's face but when she turned, it was gone and all she got was a snappy, "What are you staring at?" She turned back to her bag, suspicions aroused.

Santana rolled her eyes as Rachel began to chatter. "You should have taken me with you on your night time outing instead of assaulting Quinn. For future reference, I can actually cry on demand." Her face crumpled and she began to sob brokenly.

Santana's eyes widened in horror. "What the hell? Get out of my room!"

"Santana!" Brittany came out of the bathroom and tapped her gently on the arm. "What have you done to Rachel? She hasn't been here for two minutes and you made her cry!"

With an exasperated sigh, Santana entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Quinn shouted after her. "Never mind, one day Brittany can lick your stretch marks, Santana!" Like hell was she going to let the cling-ons use her bathroom before her.

After what was a painful amount of time for Santana, all the girls were in bed and Brittany reached up and flicked off the light.

"Goodnight Brittany," Rachel sighed sleepily.

"Uh, goodnight," Brittany replied.

"Goodnight Quinn," Rachel offered.

"I told you not to do that, now go to sleep," was the reply.

"Goodnight Santana" she continued, unperturbed by the lacklustre responses she was getting.

"You have got to be kidding me."

After a few minutes the peace was shattered with a moan. "Oh God, Britt. More, right there. Harder!" Santana gasped loudly even though Brittany had only innocently wrapped her arm around her waist. The effect was somewhat ruined by Brittany giggling uncontrollably as Santana writhed next to her under the covers in her attempt to piss off Quinn.

"I swear to God, Santana. If you two have sex with us in the room the whole world will know who was responsible for the anonymous barf in the 2009 Cheerios trophy," Quinn snapped, into the darkness.

"You cant prove anything."

"DNA evidence. Coach has the resources, all she needs is the inclination."

"We should all attempt to get the recommended eight hours of rest or our performance may suffer tomorrow. We all need our sleep, you and Brittany included."

"If you don't shut up you wont wake up in the morning and I'll take your solo."

"If you don't shut up I'll get Brittany to swap beds."

Brittany hummed thoughtfully, as though considering the suggestion. With a huff Santana turned over and snuggled into Brittany's side.

"Rachel, stop kicking me," Quinn hissed.

"Stop hogging all the covers!" Rachel pulled the blankets from where Quinn had a vice like grip on them. There was a squeal and a thud and judging from the Quinn like snicker from the bed it was Rachel who had lost the battle and landed on the floor.

"Do you two mind not doing that while we're in the room?" Santana deadpanned into Brittany's shoulder. "Have a little respect."

There was further rustling and huffing and then everyone seemed to settle down.

Quinn could hear a gentle slap every now and then and a whispered, "Stop it," as Brittany batted away Santana's roaming hands. There was some whispering and giggling and then eventually silence.

Until Rachel began to snore.

"Fuck. My. Life." Santana breathed out loud with Quinn saying the exact same thing in her head.

Early the next morning Santana stood over Quinn and Rachel's bed and snapped a photo with her phone. Both girls had their arms around each other, Rachel's head was tucked under Quinn's chin and her face was planted comfortably in Quinn's breasts.

"Puck will pay big bucks for this," Santana whispered to Brittany. "Maybe more if we tell him we offered it to Jewfro first. We could be set for life."

"Aww they're so cute," Brittany smiled at the sight in front of them.

"Whatever," Santana rolled her eyes as she took another snap. "Let's go mess with their toiletries."

* * *

><p><em>AN There won't be proper Faberry. I know some of you want that but I'm not a true Faberry believer, I just think they're funny together.  
>Also, Yes to the anon who asked, I do have tumblr. The link is in my profile. It's imaginatively titled, killercereal.<br>_


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry for the wait. Had to split this chapter in two cos it was getting outta control._

* * *

><p>5.<p>

Santana and Quinn had snuck out of the New Directions dressing room as soon as they realised Mercedes and Rachel were trying to out do each other with scales and wouldn't be stopping anytime soon.

"I swear I felt blood start to trickle outta my ears," Santana whined as they flopped down on the floor. They had found an out of the way corner backstage where some old lighting equipment and dusty ropes had been dumped and long forgotten, with a perfect view of the stage behind the scenes and out onto some of the audience. They sat together as they used to at cheerleading competitions passing judgement on all the other acts scheduled before them.

"Those heels! How can they walk in them, let alone dance?"

"Someone call the fashion police, those skirts were outlawed in the 80's."

"Don't give up the dream of working in McDonalds!"

They spent the last five minutes before George found them, throwing mints at a forty strong gospel styled show choir who were making every atom in the room vibrate with their singing. Santana was convinced they were trying to win by turning all the other acts deaf.

"My ears!"

"Isn't that considered cheating if you turn everyone else deaf?"

"If I wanted to listen to this I'd have stayed in the dressing room."

"Where's your better half?" Quinn asked, in a quiet minute in between performances.

"Reminding Finn what dancing is. I told her to give up and we'd get a robot version that can dance better. Probably sing better too."

"Hey! Finn's okay. Leave him be."

"Apart from the dancing."

"Where's your bodyguard?"

"Around. He says it's when me and B are together he needs to keep an eye on us. Wow," Santana grimaced at the over the top cheesy antics of the next group up on stage. "They blow hard. Get off!" she yelled, throwing a mint at them. It pinged one boys ear which flamed red instantly and he ended the song holding his stinging ear. Annoyed to find they'd run out of projectiles Santana turned her attention to the next act gathering backstage.

"Figured out where you're going for your date?" Quinn asked. "I mean, no pressure but Britt's only been waiting for this moment for like, forever."

Santana scowled at her for ruining the fun they'd been having but before she could think of an appropriately nonchalant yet scorching remark, she slapped her hand across Quinn's folded arms without warning and whispered fiercely. "Shit, Q. Look! Is that?"

"Yes, I saw her already," Quinn muttered, rubbing her arm.

"But-"

"Don't want to talk about it."

"Hmph, okay then I guess." Santana mercifully let it slide for now and turned her attention to judge the next act. "They aren't half bad."

"Nope, they're _all_ bad!" Quinn chuckled softly, thankful Santana had changed the subject.

"Holy sweet hell. Are those day glow leg warmers?" They stared slack jawed at the sight in front of them, forgetting to heckle as the lights were dimmed and the group danced in glow in the dark leg warmers. They blinked as the lights came back on and twenty dancers pulled off their leg warmers and threw them into the crowd. Quinn grabbed Santana as she tried to get up and run onto the stage but failed dismally, tripping over a coiled rope. "Brittany would love a pair," she whined as the offending garments were pounced on by the audience. She slumped back down with a sigh. "I guess that was... different."

"Yep. Lousy..."

"...but different!"

"Hey," George interrupted the underground judging ring. "You two are like those muppet guys, you know the grumpy old men, Statler and Waldorf."

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Mr T."

"That means I'm cool as, and not a heckler."

"Yeah, don't judge us, George." The girls cackled at Quinn's lame joke. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just resting my ears. It was getting epic in there. It's a wonder those girls have enough air left to snipe at each other after all the singing."

Quinn took the opportunity to leave before Santana could ask any more uncomfortable questions about the person they'd both sighted. "I'm going to get a drink of water. See you back in the dressing room."

George took Quinn's seat and watched the bustle on stage as Santana fanned herself with a programme. "You nervous?" George asked.

"No, why? Do I look nervous? It's just warm from all the hot air these choirs are blasting out."

"You seem a little bit on edge maybe, but you'll be fine."

"I know I'll be fine. I'm not nervous. It's not like I've never been out with her before."

George did a double take. "What? What are you talking about?"

"This freakin' date no one can go two minutes without mentioning. Wait, why? What are you talking about?"

"The competition."

"Oh fuck that, it's in the bag. Berry's got the pipes to blow the roof off. Don't tell her I said that."

"I just heard her pipes, I believe it. So, are you nervous about your date then?"

"No!" Santana scrunched up her nose and after a pause asked. "Do you live in NY?"

"Uh huh."

"Britt said you're married."

"Yup, seven years."

"Cool. So uh, what are the, you know, the date places around here?"

"What kind of date is it? First, friends, romantic?"

"All of the above?" She watched him hopefully as he pondered the question. "And it has to be short cos we've got rehearsals and Rachel 'devil child' Berry will send out the hounds to track us down and bring us back in their teeth if we aren't back in time for rehearsal."

"Okay, can I just be really honest with you?"

"Sure."

"Brittany kinda told me to drop a hint that she wants to go to central park, go for a boat ride on the lake and then a horse and cart ride around the park."

"She did?" Santana appeared taken aback for a moment and George nodded with amusement. "Oh. Well. I guess that's that then."

George tried not to laugh. "C'mon, you're supposed to be back in the dressing room. Brittany was wondering where you were and it makes my job easier if you're in the same room."

"You still haven't explained exactly what your job is." Santana pointed out as he offered his hand to pull her up.

"Haven't I? Huh, imagine that."

In the dressing room Brittany was jumping up and down on her toes, her relentless energy driving Rachel to distraction. Only a wary eye in Santana's direction could prevent her from saying anything or grabbing Brittany by the shoulders and forcing her to sit still.

Brittany had been brewing since first thing that morning. The excitement was steadily building as they got to the theatre and their scheduled performance got closer and closer. Santana found her nerves calmed every time she looked over at Brittany and saw her giddy anticipation and pure happiness. Brittany was happy and she was not going to let anyone or anything ruin it for her. It also helped that Britt had taken her aside that morning in their hotel room and made her promise that she would keep her cool this time. They were all under high pressure and under no circumstances was she allowed to go anywhere near Rachel's vocal chords. The icing on the cake had been, "I want us to win. And if we win, you win," Brittany murmured, her breath hot on her ear. She ran a tantalizing finger down Santana's jaw and winked slyly before pirouetting away leaving a very dazed and breathless girl behind. She didn't even blink when Rachel bumped into her in her hurry to be on her way to the theatre as quickly as possible. "Got a little drool there," Quinn nudged her, as she followed Rachel out of the room.

Santana looked over to where Tina and Mercedes were chatting to Brittany who smiled and waved as she noticed Santana watching her.

"Thirty minutes 'til we're on!" Mr Schue bounced into the dressing room just as excited as his students. "Nobody wander off." Then he bounced out again headed to his seat where he was watching the other performances.

Rachel and Kurt exchanged a surreptitious glance and slowly backed out of the room, not realising no one cared where they were going. Trying to occupy themselves and prevent limb numbing fear and nerves from taking over, the boys crowded around Artie's DS while Quinn, Mercedes and Tina chatted quietly. Lauren and Santana were the only two without occupation. They exchanged a mutual look of disdain and silently agreed they weren't bored enough to interact, Lauren turned to join the girls' conversation.

Five lost battles later, George looked up from the thumb war he was engaged in with Brittany as Rachel ran into the New Direction's dressing room sobbing. She slammed her back to the wall and slid down to slump on the floor while wailing into her hands.

"What's happened?" Finn looked more bemused than worried. It was highly probable Rachel was overreacting about something. Seconds later, Kurt followed Rachel's lead and ran in slamming the door behind him and throwing his back against the door with his hand to his chest. Wild eyed he gasped for breath.

"Her head!" he yelled, to everyone's confusion. "The back of her head!"

"What's the matter with you two? We're going on in twenty five minutes. Rachel snap out of it!" Mercedes snapped her fingers in front of Rachel's nose but she just shook her head. "What happened?" Mercedes demanded of Kurt who was only slightly more sane.

"Barbra," Kurt burst out with a strangled gasp. "She came out of the judges room."

There was a pause and then, "And?" Tina prompted, who, along with everyone else, was expecting more to the story.

"Have you two been stalking the judges?" Quinn asked as Rachel began to hyperventilate.

"Someone needs to slap her." Tina frowned at the weird gasping noises emitting from Rachel.

"I'll slap her," Santana volunteered, stepping forward only to be stopped by Brittany's hand around her arm.

The threat worked well enough in itself and Rachel made a concerted effort to calm down. "Buh-buh-buh-buh-Barbra is going to watching us perform. Hu-hu-hu how am I supposed to air-breathe-sing?"

"You think that's bad?" Santana with a knowing smirk. "Your mom's here too."

Puck and Rachel gaped at her simultaneously. Puck's glance flickered over to Quinn for a split second but she was staring at her feet. Santana shrugged. "Saw her shouting at some Vocal Adrenalines."

"You think that's bad?" Brittany said, deflecting knowing eyes from Quinn and catching Santana's attention. "Your dad's here as well."

"What?" Her nose wrinkled in disbelief. "That's not even funny, Britt."

"It's true. He came over and said hi and wished me luck and said he's brought a video camera. I told him my mom and sister weren't coming until we made showcase but he seemed really excited to be here anyway."

Santana looked horrified. "What? Are you serious?"

"He said he's gonna try and swap his ticket so he can sit in the front row."

"Who knew you had a pushy showbiz dad?" Rachel smiled, now somewhat more subdued at all the news. "We should compare notes."

After looking at Rachel with alarm, Santana dragged Brittany out of the room to find her father with George following behind like a guard dog. "Where is he?"

Artie looked up from the programme and announced. "Hey, Vocal Adrenaline are up next but one. Should we watch them?"

"I don't think I want to know how well they're gonna do." Kurt muttered.

* * *

><p>From the vantage point at the side of the stage Santana peered into the dim auditorium trying to glimpse her sneaky, sneaky father.<p>

"I don't know where he's sitting," Brittany admitted as she watched as half the glee club came out to heckle Vocal Adrenaline who were getting ready to go onstage. "I saw him at the concession stand. He got me some Mentos tho', you want one?"

"No. Thanks." Santana mumbled, preoccupied by her search and cursing the stupid rule which said no performers were allowed to bring their phones into the auditorium.

"It'll be fine, dont worry. He cant wait to see you up there." Brittany huffed slightly as Santana ignored her, busy scanning the crowd and turned to George. Maybe he could distract Santana from worrying abou t her father. "Hey George, I was wondering, do you like, have to do what we say?" Brittany asked, innocently.

"No," was the no nonsense, stoic reply.

"Stand on one leg," Brittany commanded, much to Santana's amusement. She shifted her attention back to Brittany and watched her with affection well aware of what she was trying to do.

"Uh, no."

"Go on."

"Brittany, no. I don't have to do what you say."

"Why not?"

"I don't take orders from you."

"Oh," Brittany looked disappointed and for a moment there Santana wondered if she really had believed it. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"It's okay if you cant balance or something. Is your balance all outta whack?"

"I could do it if I wanted to, I just don't want to."

"Is it cos you'd fall over? Is that why you work here, cos you had to retire or something?"

"I'm perfectly balanced," George insisted. "There's nothing wrong with my balancing skills. I can stand on one leg if I want, which, I do not want."

Brittany nodded slowly clearly humouring him but still not convinced. "It's okay you know. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"For crying out loud!" He forced out through gritted teeth and lifted his right leg off the ground smiling at her triumphantly when he didn't fall over. Santana put a hand up to her face in the pretence of scratching her nose but really trying to hide her laugh.

"But anyone can do that," Brittany pointed out, unimpressed. "Smooth your 'hawk and pat your belly while on one leg and then I'll believe you."

"Wait-a-minute," he frowned suspiciously as both girls became unable to contain their laughter.

"Told you you had to do as we say," Brittany grinned at him.

"And that, my friend, is how Brittany gets whatever she wants," Santana smirked at him and slipped an arm around Brittany's waist.

George put his foot back on the ground and sighed. Played. As the girls talked George looked out into the audience and ran his hand over his mohawk, he caught the eye of someone in the audience watching him with amusement. He returned a rueful smile and nodded.

"Aren't you going over there to heckle the opposition?" George nodded to where Puck was sporting a sinister grin, flanked by Artie and a reluctant Finn as they headed for the unsuspecting members of Vocal Adrenaline.

"Aren't you supposed to be discouraging me from stuff like that?"

"I'm trying to anticipate your next move."

"I don't think it's me you should be worried about," she said, as Puck winked conspiratorially at her across from the other side of the stage. He was making sure to bump his shoulder into as many of the 'enemy' as he could.

"Quinn's upset," Brittany said, the sight of Puck bringing her to mind.

"Yeah, I know," Santana sighed. "I asked about it but she blew me off."

"I'm gonna go find her, make sure she's okay."

"Sure, Britt." Santana squeezed her hand before she left her and George in the wings where they watched Puck's actions in disgust.

Puck stuck his nose up in the air and sniffed loudly. "What's that smell? It's a bit..." he sniffed again. "Fishy."

The Vocal Adrenaline lead male vocalist, with the regulation stupid floppy haircut 'St James' style, glared daggers at him. His female counterpart flounced over to her partner with a flick of her hair and pulled him away by the elbow. She scowled at the New Directions in the vicinity and said bitingly, "Come on Scotty, we don't associate with losers."

Puck winked lasciviously at her and sniffed his fingers. The singers turned away in disgust.

Brittany walked through the assembling show choir completely oblivious that she was in the midst of a potential confrontational danger zone. Trying to make her way through the crowd Brittany tripped and stumbled into one of the Vocal Adrenaline girls.

"Ooof, sorry," she said, immediately helping the other girl steady herself.

"Hey watch it, dumbass," the girl snapped at her and stalked off to get ready for her performance.

Nearby, Puck's eyes widened and his mouth dropped into an 'O' as he saw what happened and that Santana had been observing everything. "Shit just got real. Artie, go get the troops!" He said excitedly, expecting certain destruction.

Mike pushed his way through the throng to where Brittany was looking confused and a little lost in amongst all of the singers and put his arm around her. He pointed to where Santana was glaring at everything. "Go keep her calm before Puck stirs up a storm."

"Are you okay?" Santana asked immediately. Britt nodded in affirmation and looped her arm in Santana's.

"I tripped over my left foot. It was my fault," she said softly, so no one but Santana could hear her. They both ignored the show down Puck was stirring up in front of them.

"I think Puck is trying to wind me up," Santana observed. Brittany hummed in her ear in response. "I'm not gonna bite."

"I know," Brittany smiled proudly at her.

"But I'm going to order George to break that girls legs."

"Hey, we've covered this! I'm only here to prevent possible death and destruction," George butted in.

Puck put his arm out rested against the wall blocking the two HBIC's of the Carmel team as Artie brought the reinforcements of the rest of their Glee club. "You know," he smirked, "we were gonna try and psyche you out, shake you up a bit like you tried to do to us last year. And we were a bit offended when you didn't even bother this time."

The lead girl raised a pencilled eyebrow, flung her hair back over her shoulder and laughed in his face. "You're not worth the effort. You're no competition. We wiped the floor with you last year and the year before that and now, we're going to do it again."

"Heh," Puck grinned and couldn't help but eye the girl in front of him up and down. "You made a mistake. A fatal mistake."

"What's that?"

"You upset Brittany."

Brittany and Santana exchanged a frank questioning look. Brittany shrugged, she didn't feel upset and Santana didn't think she looked upset.

"Who?" Scotty raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Puck indicated Brittany with a flail of his hand. "The blonde ditz? She should watch where she's going. Are we supposed to be scared of her? What's she gonna do, trip over all of us?" The two Carmel performers burst into laughter which eventually died away under the stony faced stares of New Directions. "Oh, what? Am I supposed to be afraid of you?"

"Dude. No," Finn said quietly, almost reverently.

Rachel stood beside him shaking her head and uttered with pity, "You've unleashed hell."

They kept sending nervous glances towards Santana whose eyes narrowed as she tightened her arm around Brittany and tried to look like she was ignoring them while at the same time watching closely. She was mindful of George watching her like a hawk, however, with Brittany in calming proximity she didn't have a problem.

"See that girl?" Puck's eyes narrowed as he looked over. She wasn't getting mad, hang on, why wasn't she mad? "Her nickname is Satan. For a reason. And your team mate just shoved her girlfriend."

"Wife," Rachel corrected him with a nudge.

"Well that's still a touchy subject, Rachel," Kurt pointed out. "I think at this stage it would be safe to say girlfriend but that's not to say Santana won't have another panic if people keep on labelling her all up in her face."

"Fine, girlfriend then. For now."

"You're gonna lose," Puck sneered at the kids as he waited impatiently and hopelessly for Santana to step up.

They snorted at the increasingly apparent empty threats. "Oh really?"

"One, because we're better than you, and two, you're not even gonna make it out onto the stage to perform."

"And why is that?"

"Santana is going to kill you and then we're gonna help her hide the body." He slammed his fist against the wall in emphasis.

Santana looked surprised at Puck's words. She was? What? She glanced at Brittany and shook her head reassuringly. "George," she said quietly. "Are you like taking notes or something? See how I'm minding my own business and not doing anything stupid. Write that down."

"Huh?"

"For your report."

"What report?"

"Your report back to you-know-who."

Brittany looked startled at the title. "You-know-who?" she gulped. "I thought he-"

"Not that you-know-who, Britt."

"Keep it cool man," Sam tried to calm down Puck. "If we assault the other team we'll get disqualified."

Rachel began to feel a little more anxious, she was getting worked up by Puck's words and well aware of Santana's infamous temper. She turned and confronted an increasingly astonished Santana. "Santana, it's our last nationals, you cannot get us kicked out."

"I'm not doing anything," she protested vehemently. "I'm just standing here!"

"What's going on here?" interrupted Mr Schuester.

Santana appreciated the man's timing, the timing of a saint nonetheless. "Nothing," said Santana, rather flummoxed by the assumption that she was going to batter hell out of the entire Vocal Adrenaline team.

"Yeah, what she said. We were just wishing them good luck," the opposing head bitch said with a smirk.

"Okay you guys need to get on with whatever you're supposed to be doing, and New Directions, back to your dressing room. What was that all about? This rivalry has to stop out of competition."

"Nothing happened!" Quinn pointed out.

"Vocal Adrenaline, move it!" A familiar voice called out. "You've got sixty seconds to get to your stage positions or your performance is forfeited. Move it. You," she waved a hand indicating New Directions. "You all need to get back to your dressing rooms now. Any interference with the other teams could be seen as cheating and they take that sort of thing very seriously here. A girl died last year."

"What?" There was a collective horrified gasp from New Direction's. "They murdered her?" Rachel squeaked.

"No," Shelby gave them all a sideways glance at the melodramatics. "She had a peanut allergy, but still, it ruined their chances. Vocal Adrenaline get into positions!"

New Directions began to slink away, Puck the first of them to leave. "Break some legs," Santana couldn't resist shouting after them as they headed back to the dressing room, leaving only Rachel and at the edge of Shelby's vision a hesitant Quinn.

"What are you doing here? I thought you quit," Rachel asked.

"I'm here as a chaperone. I'm still a teacher at Carmel just not the Show choir coach."

A shout distracted them as Vocal Adrenaline were announced and filed on stage.

"Good luck," Rachel murmured, as Shelby went to follow them.

"You too," Shelby returned with a smile.

"You okay?" Rachel asked Quinn as they slowly made their way back to the dressing room.

"Mmhmm," she hummed non-committally. "You?"

"Yes," she lied, and then took a deep calming breath. "This is what show faces are made for, Quinn." She put on a megawatt smile and marched into the dressing room.

Santana was staring thoughtfully at the closed door where minutes before the head Vocal Adrenaline bitch had been about to, allegedly, die. Was she really that predictable, that volatile? Was that all anyone expected of her? This was new. Thinking things through before punching someone.

"Santana. Is there a problem?"

She turned to face Mr Schuester, her face expressionless. Then she shook her head in disgust. She ignored him and sat down staring off into space and tapping her foot on the floor, her mind far away from the frayed nerves and mini dramas that were unfolding in the room before a performance. Some team mates were giving her uneasy stares and Brittany was watching her worriedly chewing nervously on her bottom lip before Santana exploded.

"I cant believe you did that Puck. What a fucking asshat. Is it worth throwing away Nationals for? Did you not think anyone would care if we blew it and got disqualified? She rounded on the others. "And Rachel, what the hell? You would be inconsolable if we got kicked out! What were you going to do, fight them via the media of jazz hands? How about that for a plan? Pull out the crazy ass finger clicking and mad dance moves. Back off the both of you!" She snarled at Puck and Rachel who looked taken aback by her ferocity. "I don't have a problem with Vocal Adrenaline, you two clearly do. Don't drag me into your fucked up fight club scenario."

"Whoa come on now everyone. We don't want to self destruct before the performance." Mr Schuester tried to intervene.

"That was the perfect chance to get them, right before they went on stage. What's wrong with you? Are you sick?" Puck snapped.

"Lovesick," Quinn muttered under her breath earning herself a ferocious glare from Santana.

"Why didn't you back me up?" Puck demanded to know.

"For what, so you could pick a fight? I'd back you up anytime if they picked a fight with you, but not when you go looking for trouble. Fuck you, Puckerman! You need to grow up. The thing with Brittany was an accident, why does everyone seem to think I'm gonna go all Lima Heights every time Brittany bumps into something?"

"What's wrong with you, more like," Puck shouted. "Whats up, B got you by the short and curlies?

"Puck! That's enough," Mr Schuester yelled, getting in between them as Santana lunged for Puck's throat. Quinn and Brittany grabbed an arm each and pulled her back.

"Puck! Leave it," Quinn unleashed some of her inner Head Cheerleader and everyone took a step back from the ugly scene. Puck held his hands up and backed off. They moved and were moved to opposite ends of the room where they fumed at each other.

Brittany whispered in Santana's ear and the scowl faltered. She turned an inquisitive look to Rachel and Quinn, let out a huff and settled down.

"Okay, we're on in five minutes," announced Schuester into the tense quiet. "I want to let you guys know that no matter what has happened or what is to come, I am so proud of you. You've done so well and we've come so far together as a team. No matter what happens out there I just want you to know that," he beamed around at them his eyes looking a little teary. "Is there anything you guys want to say before we go out there?"

"Yes," Rachel said, standing up for dramatic emphasis. There was a groan from all around the room.

"As team captain, I want to say that Santana is right. I admit I got a bit carried away and our past history with Carmel has been less than perfect but we need to be focused on our performance and not on inflicting misery upon Vocal Adrenaline. As much as I despise them, we shouldn't be wasting time plotting their downfall and instead be putting more effort into our own performance."

"I, uh, I'm not sure what's got everyone so hot and bothered," Santana drawled, her lie lacking as she executed an eye roll at the same time. "But, as for Vocal Adrenaline, we're better than them," Santana admitted.

Rachel looked surprised by the words and slightly pleased at the vote of confidence.

"However, if Finn runs out on stage and kisses you, Rachel, I will cut his balls off. I am always armed and ready," she waved a hand around vaguely indicating her hair where rumour had it she kept razorblades.

Finn crossed his legs and his hands ventured into a protective position.

"Hold up. Did you just say my performance isn't good enough and needs more work?" Santana was thinking back to Rachel's little speech. She stood up suddenly and eyeballed Rachel who shook her head profusely and stuttered her innocence.

Still got it, Santana smirked. "Whatever, lets kill this."


	6. Chapter 6

_I am not sure if you get mint imperials in the USA. Let's assume for plot purposes that you do._

* * *

><p>6.<p>

Vocal Adrenaline were the act on before New Directions. As the Glee kids assembled in the wings preparing to go on, they watched with that sinking feeling as Vocal Adrenaline showed every doubter why they were unquestionably four times Nationals champions. The vocals were a powerhouse honed from hundreds of hours practice and the choreography was flawless. Santana looked down at the floor trying to catch it moving. The applause from the returning champions' first song was so loud she could feel the stage vibrate beneath her feet.

Midway through their gravity defying group number of 'Bat out of Hell', complete with real motorcycles, hope rose up and slapped New Direction's around a bit. The female lead executed a fierce flip, which made even Mike Chang's eyes water, and landed on a rogue mint imperial. The mint slid away under her weight, taking her foot with it and she fell hopelessly to the floor with her ankle at a wince inducing angle. The music continued and the totally professional show choir didn't spare the girl a blink as their contingency plan kicked into place. Two boys split off from the rest of the dancers and dragged her off stage kicking and screaming while the rest of the group finished their number.

Puck and Santana's gazes accidentally met from opposite ends of the backstage area. Santana looked away first but Puck saw the guilt in her eyes. He smirked. He should have known somehow who was responsible and that she wouldn't have let him down.

There was a renewed sense or urgency in the air around New Directions as they exchanged anxious glances with each other. Vocal Adrenaline were fallible, they screwed up. This could be their chance.

Hearty applause followed Vocal Adrenaline as they came off stage and marched past their competitors in stony silence. Hearty. Not thunderous or roof raising as they had come to expect. Coach Goolsby was spitting feathers as he ordered them all back to their dressing room for the dressing down of their lives. His face was bright red as he tried not to crack and breakdown in front of Will and some of the McKinley kids who were openly staring, hoping for a huge dramatic meltdown or just plain old hysterics from him or some of the kids. To his credit, Will looked quite sorry for the kids as they filed past him and he applauded them all sincerely.

As New Direction's finally moved into position behind the curtain the atmosphere had turned electric. Adrenaline was coursing through their veins making them sway on their feet in anticipation as they waited for the music to begin. Like a starters pistol at a sprint the curtain rose and the first note played.

All the tension and conflict from the day was poured into their performance. All grievances were forgotten as they focused all their energy into the performance and moved as the close knit team they had evolved into.

With the final note they all stood together with hands in the air reaching for the roof. Their chests were heaving with exertion and sweat poured off them. They paused in position waiting anxiously for a reaction.

Then came the applause.

It started as a low rumble and then escalated into an overwhelming roar. Two years hard work, patience and experience had pushed them to their finest performance so far. Even Finn's only fault had been what Santana dubbed his 'constipated face' as he focused on counting the beat furiously in his head. Even she had to admit the boy done good, he didn't put a step wrong. They hugged and laughed gleefully under the wave of deafening appreciation for their performance. Will was at the side of the stage laughing through his tears, he was so proud of them finally having pulled it all together.

A few hours later, enough time for voice levels to drop from shrieking to noisy, they were all to be found eagerly awaiting the results to be put up in the foyer.

Rachel's highly trained ears attuned to the sound of success pricked up as she heard a couple of girls discussing the misfortune which had befallen Vocal Adrenaline on stage.

"Her ankle's swollen to the size of a beach ball. They said there were mints scattered all over the stage."

"Did you hear that?" Rachel gasped to her team mates who all tried to appear to be looking the other way but were in fact leaning in to hear the gossip.

Brittany tucked her roll of mentos in her pocket in case she was somehow responsible for the incident. "I don't like mints," she blurted out.

"No one was asking," Mercedes pointed out in puzzlement.

Santana was occupied with trying to avoid Puck's questioning gaze. She looked away to Quinn who had suddenly found the need to retie her laces twice over.

To everyone's astonishment and avid interest, for all the wrong reasons, the girl who Brittany had bumped into earlier came over and stood before Brittany. Britt's brow furrowed a little as she concentrated on pushing her mints further down in her pocket. Only George and Santana and her father knew she had mints, there's no way anyone else could know!

"Hey, I wanted to apologise for earlier. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I think I was just kind of nervous for our performance."

Brittany beamed at her with relief and generous instant, total forgiveness. "That's okay. And you were really good. Apart from, you know, your lead falling flat on her face in the middle of the routine."

"Hmmm, yeah. Still, you were awesome out there. Anyone who dances as amazingly as you do cant be all that clumsy," she smiled shyly at Brittany who giggled happily at the compliment.

Mercedes' eyes widened comically as she looked at Santana to see if she was hearing this. In fact, everyone within earshot turned to watch Santana with avid interest as they noted the flirty subtext in the girls' conversation. Santana was sitting next to Quinn on a step on the far side of the group trying not to appear to be eavesdropping in on the conversation. Instead she was glaring lasers at two increasingly worried looking teens who had been minding their own business on the far side of the room, without even seeing them. She didn't even notice them scurry out of her eyeline as she tilted her head, trying to focus her hearing sideways to Brittany while desperately trying not to turn and look over to where the girls were talking and laughing.

All pretence at disinterest was forgotten when Vocal Adrenaline's Scotty, promoted to 'Acting Head Bitch' while his arm candy was out of action, stomped over and grabbed onto his team mate railing at her for fraternising with the enemy. Brittany stepped back in surprise at his sudden close proximity and Santana's watching eyes narrowed. "Stay away from them, Michelle. You don't want to catch loser."

"What? No," Michelle shrugged off his hold on her. "We were just talking."

A buzz ran through the crowds and captured everyones attention and interrupting the scene.

"They've posted the listings. The showcased group list is up." Kurt came running through the choirs orbiting the notice board to his friends to hurry them up. They all began to move and make their way over to the board, butterflies invading their senses.

Santana stayed back as she waited for Brittany to gather her astonishing amount of belongings which seemed to multiply the longer she stood still, Taking a moment to cast a critical eye up and down Scotty who was pulling a reluctant Michelle away, she sneered in his face determined to pay him back for his loser comment. "Tell me, being as good as you undoubtedly are, is it possible for you to sing through a broken nose?"

Quinn hooked her arm through Santana's elbow and pulled her away. "Okay," she said in a sing song voice. "That's enough, lets go see how much we beat them by."

"We get points for not falling over, don't we?" Brittany said, much to Scotty's annoyance to which Santana snorted in amusement.

Brittany pulled her hand out of her pocket to take a hold of Santana's but dislodged the packet of mints she'd been hiding and they fell out onto the ground. Scotty's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He stepped forward and snarled through gritted teeth. "If I find out that you've-"

In a split second Santana stepped in between him and Brittany but before she could bite an arm crossed in front of her.

"Whoa dude! Back it up before you're lying in traction next to your ham footed bitch Barbie." Puck slammed his palm into the other guys chest with enough force to make him stagger backwards.

Scotty glared at them all, twitching with rage as he assessed the situation. He was seething with anger at their apparent sabotage and wanted revenge. Fortunately the decision to cut the confrontation short was taken out of all of their hands.

"Hey, Twinkle Toes."

George had been watching the escalating situation with interest from the sidelines but decided to step in before violence came into it. "Beat it," he commanded.

"Yeah! Afores I ends you," Santana sniped in from around George's intimidating, muscled torso which was now blocking the view.

With a gulp at the man looming over him Scotty turned and stumbled away towing Brittany's new friend with him who managed to throw an apologetic grimace over her shoulder as he led her away.

"Was that necessary?" George asked Santana referring to her interference.

"I was helping you out. Could have got nasty without backup."

He chuckled at the skinny girl before him and turned to help Brittany collect her things, somehow ending up carrying most of them. "Britt, are these even all your clothes? You didn't have leg warmers earlier?"

"They were just lying around. I don't know where it all comes from, my pile of clothes keeps getting bigger. I only had a sweater to carry this morning. They must breed in this atmosphere."

George dropped the pile of clothes with alarm. "If we leave them here then maybe their owners will find them."

"Oh, that never happens with Lord Tubbington. He usually has to come looking for me."

"Will you guys hurry up and get over here!" Rachel screeched at them across the room where she was trying to elbow her way to the notice board. "George can clear a path for us."

Eying the unholy trinity with suspicion Puck scrunched his nose up. "Hmmm minty fresh," was his parting shot as he strolled over to Rachel and the rest of the group.

"What was that about?" Brittany asked worriedly, suspecting she was responsible for mints spilling out all over the stage even though she still had most of her packet left.

"I think that was Puck apologising," Santana mused.

"I didn't set booby trapped mints I swear!" Brittany blurted out, desperate for them to believe her.

"We know you didn't but, we kinda did," Quinn admitted.

"We didn't do it on purpose," Santana tried to appease the horrified look on Brittany's face as she stood before the culprits.

"You didn't put mints on stage on purpose?"

"No! Well, when I say no I mean yes, but I didn't think such little things could cause so much trouble." She wrapped her arms around the taller girl's waist and looked up into her troubled blue eyes taking a deep, calming breath. "Britt. Quinn made me do it."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow and as she opened her mouth to refute that allegation the rest of New Directions erupted into screams and stampeded around the room doing a crazy lap of honour.

"We did it! We're through to showcase!"

At the news Santana's arms wrapped tighter around Brittany's waist and they smiled dreamily at each other.

"So are Vocal Adrenaline."

"Ugh."

"But we did it!"

"We killed it!"

Sam and Artie started a conga line without any thought for anyone else in their way and Tina and Lauren tagged on, then Kurt and Mercedes, Mike, Finn Rachel and Puck grabbed Mr Schue and Quinn.

Will broke off laughing as he watched them race around and around giddily. His smile soon faltered as he said. "Hold it. Eleven. Why is there only eleven of you? Who's missing?" Will asked frantically doing another headcount. And then another.

"Santana? Brittany?"

"There they are," Mercedes pointed to the noticeboard to where the results had been posted and where Santana and Brittany were currently wrapped tightly in each others arms and, as Tina rather hypocritically put it, sucking face. They were beginning to attract a lot of attention at first because of how long they were managing to kiss without coming up for air but then also because of the wolf whistles as Brittany's hand disappeared under Santana's shirt.

"I think Santana was on a promise if we won." Quinn laughed at her friends.

"But we didn't win. Yet." Kurt pointed out.

"Hey girls!" Mr Schuester decided to risk it and intervene before things got out of control which, with those two, was all too entirely possible.

"No don't stop them!" Puck begged.

"Hey, break it up. Hey, stop that!" he called, without getting too close. "Quinn, stop them."

"Uh, no. I'm not getting near the Brittana machine," she refused, taking a step back.

"I'll get in the middle of that." Finn offered, drooling dreamily.

"Finn!" Rachel slapped him in the stomach as his mouth hung open.

"Ooof, what?"

Mr Schue looked around frantically until his gaze landed on George who was floating about the periphery of the group and smiling at their ecstatic reactions to getting through.

"George! You stop them, please?"

"I'm too pretty to die," he laughed. "I think my work here is done for today. They're not going to get in too much trouble attached to each others face. Goodnight guys and well done!" He said with a wave and left them to their celebrations.

A blur zoomed across the room and grabbed the girls in a hug with total disregard for the passionate clinch they were in. "You were amazing!" Santana's father yelled as the team watched in amusement and continued jumping around happily celebrating.

"Dad!" Despite Brittany's warning that he was in the audience, Santana was still shocked to see him. "What are you doing here? And what in Hell's Kitchen are you wearing?"

"You like it? I got you and Britt one and one for your mother."

"Dad, no."

"They're cool," he insisted.

"They're not cool. They are in _no way _cool." Santana stressed the words with a hiss, managing to look horrified and embarrassed at the same time.

"Ooh, I want one!" Brittany cooed over Dr Lopez's 'New Directions' t-shirt and the whole gang came over to admire it not having seen them before.

"Ms. Pillsbury designed them," Mr Schue explained proudly as Dr Lopez opened a box he had brought over from the merchandise stand. He had bought them all a shirt from the stall each one red with a sports team design. The front of the red shirts read - William McKinley High, New Directions. And on the back, Will held up the shirt with 'Berry' written on it and a huge number '1'.

"I'm number one!" Rachel squealed grabbing the shirt happily.

"They've got all your names on the back!" Dr Lopez happily held another up for them all to see. True enough he had one with Lopez on the back and the number '1'. He threw it over Santana's head making her huff, and another Lopez shirt at Brittany with a wink. "Here ya go."

Rachel mildly deflated when she realised they all had number one written on them but as Mr Schue handed round the shirts to their respective owners they all wore them proudly and she soon cheered up again.

"What are you even doing here?" Santana asked her father.

"Medical conference, which I've really got to get back to. I said I was going to the bathroom. They'll think I'm having problems. But I will definitely be here for showcase. I cant believe you never told us about this before." He squeezed Santana in a one armed hug. "I'm going to call your mother and tell her to get over here too. I videoed it all. It's going online tonight."

"Nooooooooo!" Santana moaned in horror.

"Schuester, any trouble with these two," he indicated Santana and Brittany, Brittany who was proudly wearing her shirt backwards with Lopez written over her chest, "Give me a call." Will grinned and shook hands with him.

With a kiss on Santana's head and a hug for Brittany, he waved goodbye to everyone. "You were all incredible out there. I'm so proud of you."

"Awesome!"

"I didn't know your dad was so cool," Finn beamed at Santana while admiring his shirt.

Santana's nose scrunched up a t the very thought of her father being thought cool. This was the man who wore flip flops with sweat pants with no shame. "Ugh. We seriously needs to get our party on."

"My room!" Puck hollered and everyone cheered.

* * *

><p>Puck had decided that in the event s of Quinn and Santana screwing with Vocal Adrenaline, intentional or otherwise, that he'd forgiven Santana. Unfortunately their truce didn't last long as he tried to get her back aboard the plan to distract and disarm Vocal Adrenaline by targeting the stuck up Scotty. Seeing his opening he pounced when Britt had to go down the hall to use another bathroom, Pucks having been blocked since they got there. Don't ask.<p>

"No!"

"C'mon Santana. Just get him alone, naked, tie him up and steal his clothes. It'll mess with them even more. Kick em while they're down. Or maybe you'd prefer going after the chick?"

"I said no! Do you have a hearing problem?"

Artie joined in. "I bet you'd have no trouble getting into his pants. It's not like you've never done anything like that before."

The look of disdain she bestowed upon him caused him to wheel away as fast as possible. All the reasons for hating Artie which she had buried and thought she had gotten past resurfaced. He was just waiting for her to slip up again, the four eyed snake.

Although she had become more comfortable and even happy to show her affection to Brittany in front of the Glee club she was still wary of outsiders knowing and when her so called friends were being dicks, well then. Not wanting to spend another second with them she stormed out angrily.

"What was that?" Quinn stepped up to Puck ominously as Brittany walked over to them having returned to the room to hear the tail end of it. Blood drained from his face and he gulped as he faced them.

* * *

><p>Brittany found Santana at the end of the hallway her head pressed against the cool glass of a vending machine. "Did it eat your money?" Brittany asked softly so as not to startle her.<p>

"I haven't put any in yet," she muttered, not looking up. "I just want to stay out here for a bit. It's too noisy in there."

"Puck was just being an idiot. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I wish everyone would stop asking me that. I don't know what everyone is fussing about."

Quinn came storming down the corridor her eyes blazing, daring Santana to ask.

"What happened?" Santana asked, warily.

"Let's just say he won't be having any more children any time soon."

"Oh my God, did you kill him?" Santana asked in alarm, not that she truly cared at that moment if he were dead. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," her scowl transformed into a shit eating grin and she turned to Brittany and said admiringly. "Brittany beat me to it."

Santana fixed her disbelieving gaze on Brittany who looked at her feet, her cheeks flushed pink.

"It wasn't on purpose," she said, quietly admitting her guilt. "Then sighed into the expectant silence as she began to explain herself. "I tripped over my feet. It's happened twice now, I think I need new laces before I kill someone. Anyway, I sort of landed on Puck and kneed him in the groin and then he fell into the wall and bashed his nose."

"Artie started crying," Quinn snorted. "And she didn't even lay a finger on him! Britt, I'm so proud, we've taught you well."

Santana pressed some buttons on the vending machine. It sprung to life whirring and beeping then silenced after a thud. She reached in and pulled out a bottle of Dr Pepper then handed it to Brittany.

"Thanks."

"After all that drama," Quinn explained. "Rachel offered to go and take on Vocal Adrenaline in your place and practically ran out of the building."

"Are you for serious?" Santana spluttered. "Rachel couldn't seduce a hotdog! We have to stop her, you know what they did to her last time."

"Leave it." Quinn tried to soothe her outrage. "Honestly, I think she just wanted an excuse to find her mom."

"And we all know how well that little quest ended before."

"I know, I know. I sent Mercedes and Kurt to tail her."

"Oh really?" Santana laughed. "Because those two are sooo inconspicuous. Jeez you're still running this show aren't you?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Someone in this place has got to see sense. You're all crazy."

They fell quiet and watched as Puck shuffled down the hall towards them, clearly nervous and hoping he wouldn't have to run away because he would not be able to outrun Brittany in his current condition.

"What do you want?" Quinn snarled at him and Brittany scowled at him over her shoulder..

"I just want to talk to Santana," he whimpered pathetically.

The girls turned questioningly to Santana. She nodded and they reluctantly left the two of them alone.

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever." She shrugged off his apology and then winced in sympathy as she took in the state of dishevelment, bruising and obvious pain he was in. "Britt really did a number on you," she said in awe.

He groaned as he sat down next to her on the windowsill next to the vending machine. "I think this thing with Rachel's mom being here has kind of thrown me a bit. I'm not thinking straight."

"Look, Puck. I'm totally on your side. But I've got four people here I want to be proud of me and throwing down without provocation is not gonna do that."

"Four?"

"My dad is here. My dad who has never been to anything I've ever done, ever, is here and he's got the t-shirt to prove it. I just want him to see how good we are without getting kicked out. I want him to hear me sing. That and he'll send me home if I screw up. Then, there's Babs. Britt really wants to see her and I don't want to be the ass that screws that up. It'd be so cool if she could meet you guys too." Santana sighed. "Mr Schue. His fashion sense is a lost cause, I've given up on it but he's never given up on us. On me. He puts up with a lot. I owe him. I don't want to let him down."

Puck nodded in agreement, staring steadfastly at his boots. "The fourth?"

"Brittany," Santana blushed simply at the thought of her. Puck didn't ask for further explanation but thought he heard a bashful murmur. "If we win I'm on a promise."

"Say no more!" Puck grinned, he could understand that perfectly. He jumped up then groaned at the sudden movement. "I've got you covered."

"You need more help in that department than I do." Santana rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm.

"Ouch," he slapped a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. "I'm just sayin', I got your back. Isn't it your big date tomorrow?"

They sat back down on the windowsill and stared out at the city street below. "It's not big, there's nothing big or grand or super special about it. Everything will be fine and easy and not nerve wrecking and I'm not nervous so stop asking about it!"

Puck lips formed an 'oooh' shape and he almost wisely kept quiet. "Flowers, chicks dig flowers on dates."

"Shut up Puckerman. When have you ever been on a date?"

"I've been on dates with you."

She couldn't help but laugh aloud. "Those weren't dates. It was barely foreplay. There were no flowers and I was in love with Brittany the whole time."

He grinned genuinely at her. Yeah she was. "And that's why everything will be fine."

"Keep an eye on Q tomorrow," said Santana, thoughtfully. She could see the muscles in his jaw clench. He nodded and held out his fist. Santana rolled her eyes. "I am not being your lesbro," she protested.

"Too late," he grinned as they bumped fists. His grin soon disappeared and he peered anxiously along the hall. All of sudden he stood. "Wellnicetalkingtoyou. Gladwegotthatsortedout. Won'thappenagain. Byenownight."

Santana looked up puzzled at his odd behaviour only to see Brittany approaching them with suspicion. Puck gulped and took a wide berth around her as their paths crossed with his hands protectively covering his junk. He managed an apologetic smile which came off more as a grimace and flipped her a salute. Quinn slapped him around the back of the head as he hobbled past her but there was no malice or force to it.

"Okay?" Brittany asked. Santana nodded looking happier than she had before. "You need to get some rest," Brittany murmured as she rested her head on Santana's shoulder. "You've got a busy day tomorrow. I hear you've got a very hot date. You'd best get some sleep for it."

Santana couldn't conceal her glee as Brittany pulled her up by her pinkie and led her down the hall to their room.

* * *

><p><em>Next: The date. Santana and Brittany loose in NY. Unsupervised.<em>


	7. Chapter 7

_Apologies to the NYPD. I learned everything I know about the cops in this chapter from the film 'Elf'._

* * *

><p>7.<p>

Santana leaned her back against the brick stanchion, her chest heaving as she breathed in deeply, greedily replenishing the oxygen she had just exhausted. Her eyes flicked up as galloping hoof beats thundered down from overhead echoing off the water and walls of the bridge she and Brittany were hiding under. Brittany slammed next to her against the wall gasping for air, her eyes wide and heart pounding wildly. As the hoof beats got fainter she gasped. "Whoops!"

* * *

><p>"Rachel, if you do not sit down I will personally tie you to that pillar and leave you there. Then, when we finally do go for rehearsal, I'll take your solo. And I wont regret it," Mercedes snapped, unable to take any more of the other girl pacing up and down the hotel lounge, pausing at the end of each span to stare at the clock on the wall.<p>

Rachel harrumphed and sat down with a flounce on the tiny space left on the couch in between Finn, Sam and Kurt. The group had agreed to meet in the foyer of their hotel after a day's sightseeing for their last rehearsal before the showcase the next day. Everyone was there at the appointed time except for Brittany and Santana who had abandoned the group to go on their date that day.

To everyone's irritation Rachel began tapping her foot impatiently. "They're late."

"Yes, we can tell how late they are by measuring the groove you've worn into the floor," Kurt said.

"What?" Mr Schue peered anxiously at the ground. "We've already lost our security deposit, we cant afford any more damage."

"Where are they?" Rachel cried out to the gods in exasperation.

"They'll be here. Just chill out Rach," Puck sighed.

"They knew what time we were meeting up for rehearsal and they're late. This is deliberate. This is Santana's ploy for revenge; she's doing it on purpose. Can anyone get through to their phones? It's going straight to voice mail."

"Not surprised in the slightest."

"Calm down! They're on a date, so what if they're a little behind schedule? Leave them be."

Quinn sighed. She hoped they'd get here soon, it had been a long day with Rachel chomping at the bit for rehearsal time and Puck hovering weirdly. Luckily Mercedes had been around to save her sanity. Still, she missed her friends. It was weird them not being with the group when they jumped on the tour bus and went around all the tourist hotspots. She hoped they'd had a good day.

"What happened last night?" Quinn asked Rachel quietly. She asked out of curiosity but also took the opportunity to distract Rachel.

Rachel hummed absently, her mind somewhere else.

"Rach? How did it go last night?" Quinn persisted. "Kurt and Mercedes didn't say much."

"Oh, well, yes, I saw Shelby and... uh. " The usually verbose girl seemed reluctant to say any more. "We uh, that is she and I, talked for little bit but then Mercedes and Kurt wouldn't stop texting me. Apparently they thought I was being held captive and tortured by Vocal Adrenaline so I went to find them before they called the cops. Then we went and hung around some post performance stage doors on Broadway instead."

"What di-"

"Oh thank God. Here they are at last!" Rachel interrupted her by jumping up eagerly as the tardy girls walked in through the hotel doors. She halted in her tracks as their unusual appearance became apparent. "What happened?"

"What is that smell?" Kurt scrunched his nose up in disgust.

"I really hope that's mud and not something else," Quinn muttered.

"Where have you been? You're late!"

"Do not speak to me." Santana raised a palm to the group. Of course they all had to be sitting there waiting before she had a chance to shower and change. Her hand gesture indicating that nosy bastards should all fuck off if they knew what was good for them.

Usually flawless in appearance the girls looked like they had been dragged through a hedge backwards then shipwrecked on a distant shore and had walked a thousand miles back to Manhattan. Their hair was wild and their clothes were muddy and damp. They looked as thought they had both been repeatedly soaked and then sun dried. As they walked through the foyer the Glee Club watched in silence not daring to say anything further and trying not to laugh at the sight before them. Santana glowered the whole way across the space to the elevator as Brittany followed looking slightly guilty as she stared down at her feet.

"You can have thirty minutes to shower then group meeting!" Rachel called after them. As the elevator doors closed on the girls they could see Santana's hand giving Rachel the one fingered salute.

Away from curious eyes in the elevator their frowns dissolved and Santana and Brittany exchanged a smirk. They looked remarkably happy considering the state they were in.

"Can we tell them yet?" Brittany asked.

"No, not yet. We'll never hear the end of it if we do."

* * *

><p><strong>Earlier that morning...<strong>

Santana awoke to the sound of Brittany's cheerful singing coming from their shared bathroom. She stretched with a lazy groan, kicking the loose sheets from the bed to land in a pile on the floor. She stumbled blearily to the door with a pile of clean clothes in her arms. "What are you so chipper about?" she grumbled to the ray of sunshine brushing her teeth at the sink.

"Come on, sleepy head!" Brittany chirped. "The sun is shining, it's going to be a beautiful day and you need to get ready."

With her eyes half closed Santana took a step into the bathroom only to meet resistance of Brittany's hand on her chest. "Nu uh."

"What? I need to use the bathroom too."

"Santana." Brittany sighed, as though she were patiently explaining something to a small child. "I have a date I have been waiting my whole life for and I need to get ready."

"Britt," she whined. "We always get ready together."

"Not this time. Go use Quinn's bathroom."

"B, you don't need to spend ages getting ready. You're gorgeous anyways."

Brittany smiled softly and stepped up to Santana, wrapping her arms around her and the pile of clothes she had pinned to her chest. "You really think so?"

Santana nodded fervently, wide awake all of a sudden. When did her mouth become so parched? She licked her lips as Brittany watched every move. Her heart leapt as Brittany put her hands up to Santana's shoulders and just stared at her, lost in this close proximity. It was something of a surprise when Brittany spun her around by the shoulders and pushed her toward the door and out of the room into the hallway.

"Don't be late!" She slapped her on the ass for good measure and shut the door on her, leaving Santana gasping indignantly in the hallway.

She turned back and pounded on the closed door. "But Rachel's in there," she shouted, trying to see through the peep-hole. "She'll talk to me!"

She instinctively jumped back a step as the door suddenly swung open and Brittany appeared with a raised eyebrow. "And? You'll tell her what?"

"Uh...uh...uh..." She floundered, unable to find an answer eventually managing to muster up a mumbled, "I'll go ask Q then." She obediently turned and crossed the hall to knock on Quinn and Rachel's door.

Santana shuffled into the room where Rachel was spread out on her new and improved non-broken bed like a starfish, flapping her arms like she was trying to make a snow angel on the sheets. So fucking weird, thought Santana even though she managed to keep it to herself with her current preoccupation.

"I need to use your bathroom."

"Oh don't tell me you've blocked yours too. Artie was just in here to use ours. He said his and Puck's is still blocked and has been since within 5 minutes of getting here."

"Ewwww. What is wrong with you? That was something I did not ever need to know. Besides, there's nothing wrong with ours, B's using it."

"So? Share."

"She kicked me out."

Quinn rounded on her immediately and snarled. "Did you do something fucking stupid again?"

"Jeez! Chill out, Killer Quinn!" Santana raised her hands in alarm. "I ain't done nothin' wrong! Damn, I didn't bring anything. My bag is in the bathroom and Britt wont let me in. Can I use your stuff?"

"Rachel brought a suitcase dedicated to make-up and-"

"I have to be prepared in case there are agents around. I could be snapped up by Broadway at any moment."

"Can't a girl just get ready?"

"Get ready for what exactly?"

"Don't act all innocent, I've got this stupid date thing."

"…"

She turned at the resounding silence behind her. Quinn was glowering furiously at her and Rachel was watching wide eyed while wisely decided to keep quiet.

"Stupid?" Quinn raised her danger eyebrow.

"I mean... " Santana squirmed under her gaze. "Just shut up and get out of the way."

"I thought you'd have tried to wriggle out of it somehow. I mean, it's taken you long enough to get to this point, isn't it about time for another freak out?"

"Bite me, Fabray."

"You mean you're going through with it?" Rachel asked excitedly.

"I think you've well and truly confused Brittany," Quinn pointed out. "She doesn't know what to do or think. You'd best not screw this up or have another panic episode."

"Shut up, Quinn. Are you going to help or just sit there and make useless comments?"

"Santana, you're going to the park, what do you need to get ready for?" Rachel asked, not understanding how much of a high maintenance girl Santana truly was.

"Either help me or stop talking."

With a glance at the owner, who nodded her permission, Quinn dragged out from under the bed Rachel's emergency Broadway make-up travel kit. There was a non travel version at home but it wouldn't fit into a single suitcase. Santana helped her lift it onto the bed and they both peered inside in awe.

"Rachel," began Santana, pure exasperation and amusement could be detected in her voice. "There is actual green face paint in here. Are you serious?"

"You never know. They may need an Elphaba stand in at any second and I could be the only person in a fifty mile radius who can hit that high F. It doesn't hurt to be ready."

Santana and Quinn stared at her, open mouthed.

"This, this is..." Santana shook her head in disbelief. "You are insane," she stated in amazement and without a hint of meanness, then laughed.

Rachel smiled back somewhat tentatively. Santana was smiling at her. Oh God.

"I get why there's green paint, but blue?" Quinn asked as she rummaged through the extensive contents.

"Blue Man Group."

"Q?" Santana whined with pleading eyes as the madness began to get too much for her.

"In the bathroom," she sighed. "Don't use all of my mascara. It was expensive!"

"I'll steal you a new one!" Santana's voice was muffled by the door which she swiftly locked behind her before Quinn could 'Santana proof' her personal make-up. After a second the lock slid back and the door opened again to reveal Santana staring forlornly at Quinn and making her protruding lower lip tremble.

Quinn executed a perfect eye roll with side sigh and walked after her. "Let me guess. You want me to help you but are too proud to ask?"

"As if. Get your skinny ass in here."

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?"<p>

"Uh, the park?" Santana was puzzled, surely Brittany already knew this.

Then again apparently not as she squealed with excitement. "That's so cool. It's like you can read my mind! How did you know I wanted to go to the park?"

"Britt, you told George to tell me."

"Oh yeah. But still. I'm impressed already."

Santana shook her head with a smile, this may be easier to not screw up than she had originally anticipated. She led Brittany through the morning crowds of commuters and joggers, dog walkers and eager tourists, to a secluded grass bank by the lake. To Brittany's astonishment a breakfast picnic was already lain out for them. Fruit, croissants, coffee, orange juice and an empty plate which once held cherry pop tarts had been reduced to crumbs.

"How?" Brittany was so pleased she couldn't speak for the wide smile now surely permanently etched into her face. "Oh my God, Santana. This is so amazing and... so cheesy."

"Puck owes me. I made him get up at the butt crack of dawn to set it up. Good cheesy?"

"I love it."

Sure enough, Puck was snoozing up against a tree 'guarding' the picnic. He hadn't done a very good job of it as there were a few items they had agreed upon which seemed to have gone missing. He opened one sleepy eye at the sound of their voices, unconsciously wiping a few crumbs from his shirt. He looked over to see the girls feeding each other fruit. Sure it was all gooey and sickeningly sweet and all, but they weren't even making out, so he closed his eye and dozed off again.

After breakfast, and leaving a trail of leftovers from Puck to the pond where some geese took an interest in the free food and began to make their way towards the sleeping unsuspecting boy, the girls strolled hand in hand along the path headed for the boat hire place on the lake. As they turned a corner with Brittany happily swinging their clasped hands between them she stopped, bringing Santana to halt as well, and stared straight ahead.

"Look!" she whispered in awe.

"What?" asked Santana looking around for whatever had caught her attention. "Ohhh."

She gripped Brittany's hand tightly and pulled it up to her chest in both hands forcing Brittany to turn and look at her. "No." She said simply.

"I heard anyone can borrow them."

Santana frowned in disbelief. "I don't think they are there for the taking, B."

"Sure they are. They're tied up all over the park and you can get on them and ride around then get off and leave them wherever you want."

"No, you can't. Really."

"You can, Santana," Brittany insisted perfectly seriously. "It's like they do with bicycles. I read it... on the internet," she said, as though this automatically made it true. Pulling Santana along with her she reached into her pocket and pulled out an apple she had pilfered from their picnic and fed it to the pleasantly surprised horse she had set her sights on.

"No, Brittany. It's got NYPD written on the saddle and there's a cops hat hanging up on it!"

"Just along the path and back. Please?"

Santana wavered uncertainly for a second but managed to hold steady. "No."

Brittany unleashed the full force of the long perfected Pierce pout.

"Fuck." Santana stared, hopelessly trapped in her gaze. "This is ridiculous. This is such a bad idea. God, okay, okay. Only along the path and back." Brittany's pout turned into a triumphant smug smirk.

Santana looked around anxiously expecting a cop to jump out at any second and stop them. She turned back to protest one more time but was startled by a peck on the lips before Brittany climbed onto the complacent horse and chatted away to it.

"I think it's cruel tying you up and having fat cops sitting on you all day. Poor thing, it can't be much fun. Come with us instead and we'll show you fun."

Santana held the reins and walked alongside the horse as Brittany giddily rode along the path now wearing the cops hat.

"Hey! HEY!" A shout made them turn warily to see a police officer zipping up his pants having just stepped out from the toilet block where he had being making use of the facilities. The girls froze, well Santana froze and forced the horse and its rider to a standstill as she held the reins. The horse was still chewing on the apple core and stared with interest between it's human and it's new friends with big brown soulful eyes. It then turned its head to the side so Brittany could scratch behind his ear. Santana's eyes darted nervously from side to side trying to figure out a way out of this. Brittany caught her attention as she held out her hand to Santana and she stared into unwavering blue eyes which crinkled as she smiled. "Trust me."

_Godamnandblastitagain_. Santana grabbed her hand as the cop took another step toward them. "Oh hell, here we go," she muttered.

Brittany pulled Santana up behind her, tugged the reins and shouted, "Ya!"

The cop had paused not suspecting that they would actually dare attempt to steal his horse but as he watched Santana settle down behind Brittany and wrap her arms around her waist he started to run towards them.

Santana looked back and shouted over her shoulder pointing in the opposite direction as she did so. "Are you lost officer? The doughnut stand is that way."

"I hope you washed your hands," Brittany yelled and they burst out into giggles as the accomplice police horse galloped away from its partner.

Which is how they eventually found themselves hiding under the bridge over the lake.

Mud and grass stains streaked their arms and legs where they had hit the grassy ground when they decided it would be wiser to jump from the stolen steed rather than face the group of cops it was heading for. They waited, holding their breath, as six mounted police officers clattered on the bridge overhead on the lookout for the now horseless horse-nappers.

Eventually the noise died down and searching for the right words, Santana spluttered. "Why? Why do I listen to you, every time? And why do you think of stuff like this to do?"

"I didn't know they were real police." Santana did a double take as Brittany tried to explain. "I thought the Mountie guys were for like tourists or something, like the ones at Buckingham Palace with the big hats."

"Those are real soldiers, Britt! They have guns and everything and will go all ninja on your ass if you try shit." Santana slapped her palm to her head. "Why, why, why?"

"Don't get mad at me! We might have been able to get away with it until you added insult to injury and pointed out the direction of the nearest doughnut stand. That was what pushed him over the edge."

"Oh what-freaking-ever, Britt. And being all conspicuous on a _stolen _police horse had nothing to do with the cavalry chasing us."

"I think it's cos we didn't have the uniform on," Brittany mused. "Does this mean there's a manhunt and the NYPD will be looking for us now? Do we have to hand ourselves in? Do we have to quit our date? I think I can outrun a horse. I know I can outrun a goat."

Santana took a deep calming breath. "Hell no. You wanted the park so we're staying in the park. They got that bitch horse back, we should have suspected something when it headed straight for the doughnut stand with all those cops munching away. I bet it was trained to hand us in. Good thing we jumped off."

She leaned over and wrapped her arm around the slightly guilty looking blonde. "I'm not mad, I'm just sayin', it was a good thing I distracted that cop by stimulating his doughnut gland to buy us enough time to escape. I bet that's where the gang of them were headed right now. They weren't chasing us, it's happy hour at the doughnut-mobile and it attracts cops like flies. That's where they are now stuffing their faces with sugary goodness."

"You're sure?"

"Yup."

Brittany smirked at the memory and Santana couldn't help but mirror it. "What do we do now?"

"We'll continue on our stealth date. Now, we go for a boat ride. They cant get us on the lake, horses cant even swim."

"I think they can," Brittany sounded unsure. "But it's okay, we can row faster than a horse."

"We can?"

Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and pulled her out from under the shade of the bridge up the bank onto the path in the sunlight. "Maybe we should lose the hat." Santana pointed out.

"No. I'm gonna wear it with pride. Cops are heroes, I'm supporting them, and its hot. You know what would be hot? You in a cop uniform."

"Okay, we'll keep the hat."

They made their way to the boat hire place, looking more suspicious than two girls covered in grass stains and mud and one wearing a cops hat normally would, by stealthily sneaking from tree to tree and checking around every corner. The public gave them a wide berth.

The boat hire guy looked them up and down and decided it best not to comment, especially because of the glare he was getting from Santana. "When your boat number is called bring it back to the jetty." Were his simple instructions. "You're number seven."

Once they were out on the water they felt they could relax. For some reason Santana found herself rowing, sneaky Brittany was sneaky, and eventually, when she'd figured out how to go in the direction she wanted, they reached the middle of the lake and she threw down the oars. She gave long catlike stretch and sighed with relief. No more interruptions, nothing could go wrong out on the water.

Brittany sprawled out in the bottom of the boat and with a smile Santana joined her, draping herself over her chest and resting her head under Brittany's chin.

"I wonder what the others are doing? They were going to the statue this morning."

"Mmmm," murmured Santana, "Don curr." The warmth of Brittany's body and the sun overhead were making her sleepy. Brittany watched as her eyelashes fluttered with the effort of trying to stay awake but soon became lulled herself by the rocking of the boat, the warm sunshine and combined with the impromptu, energetic dash away from the police it led them into a dozy stupor.

A small splash from the water to the right of the boat woke Santana up fast. She sat up suddenly. "What was that?" She stared into the murky water uneasily. "Something moved."

"Where? Let me see!" Brittany was instantly awake and excited. She got up hurriedly, causing the boat to rock unsteadily as she climbed over Santana to the side of the boat the disturbance had come from. "Maybe it's one of the giant alligators from the sewers."

"Sit down, Britt, you'll tip us!" Santana was hanging onto the sides of the rowing boat for dear life as the water splashed against the hull and the whole, somehow much more flimsy than it had appeared on the jetty, boat wobbled. Brittany flopped down onto Santana's lap at the bottom of the boat and peered over the edge into the green water. Santana leaned the opposite way as the boat lurched heavily to the side where both their weights had been.

Eager to stop the boat rocking Santana grabbed hold of Brittany's waist and held her in place until Brittany realised she wasn't going to be let go. She squirmed around, changing position until she found herself lying flush against the full length of Santana's body. Hovering over her, she smirked and leant down to drop a gentle kiss on her lips. Santana sighed happily into the kiss. Brittany rested on her elbows and ran her hands in the dark locks beneath her, deepening the kiss as Santana's lips parted and let her tongue, which had been running along her bottom lip, in to tangle with her own. Brittany curled her left leg up until her thigh rested in between Santana's legs and, straddling Santana's left leg, began to almost unconsciously thrust and grind simultaneously. Santana groaned at the feeling and her hands moved from their tight grip on Brittany's waist down to cup her ass. She pulled her in closer with every thrust from Brittany's body, harder and harder, neither of them breaking the kiss. Brittany freed one of her hands from Santana's hair and slid it down her cheek, caressing her face and down her neck to pause momentarily above her breast as she was temporarily distracted by Santana sucking on her tongue.

Her hand continued it's route, stopping to cup and squeeze Santana's right breast which caused her hips to buck reflexively, in turn making the boat lurch from side to side as Brittany squeezed harder. Neither of them noticed the boat rocking this time.

"NUMBER SEVEN." A shout on a loud speaker rang out over the water. "NUMBER SEVEN, ARE YOU IN DIFFICULTY?"

Brittany moaned as Santana mumbled something into her mouth, the words lost in the kiss.

"Mmmmmfphjh," Brittany panted as their lips broke apart and Santana blinked, trying to fight off the lustful haze.

"We're number seven."

"What? I love your boobs," Brittany's voice was husky as she stared at Santana's irresistible swollen red lips and ducked her head for another kiss but Santana pushed her off.

"Focus."

"I am focussed. On your boobs." she insisted, caressing the soft weight under her palm.

Santana sat up so her tousled head was visible over the side of the boat and shouted over to the lake side. "What the actual fuck do you want right now, Ahab? It had better be fucking good."

"NUMBER SEVEN, PLEASE REMAIN VISIBLE AT ALL TIMES OR YOU WILL BE TOWED IN."

Trying not to notice the occupants in the other rowing boats staring at them, Santana flipped him the finger and slumped against the side of the boat. Brittany rolled onto her back with a frustrated sigh. "I need a cold shower."

They decided to row around a bit more, Brittany taking the oars to burn off a bit of frustration. Santana sat back against the bow of the boat trailing her fingertips in the water. Seeing more splashing similar to before she snatched her hand back in before anything could bite it.

"There they are again! There's like turtles or something in here."

Determined to see them this time Brittany stood up and promptly lost her balance. She grabbed on to Santana's shoulders for support but as she was leaning over to look into the water she stumbled. Normally this wouldn't have been a problem but the extra weight at the edge of the wildly rocking boat was slightly too much for the laws of physics to handle and the boat flipped over far enough to dump the two into the lake.

Spluttering and with her eyes closed so as not to allow one drop of water into any orifice, Santana leapt as far out of the water as she could into Brittany's arms and wrapped herself around the other girl. "No, no, no, no, no, I can't swim! It's disgusting and there's things in here swimming, Britt! Moving, touching my feet! I cant see the bottom. I swallowed some, I'm going to die... Did you say alligators before?" She leant back to look into Brittany's startled blue eyes.

"Santana, it's okay you can stand up." Brittany gave her a lopsided grin. "It only goes up to my waist." Santana gulped and then coughed as she tasted lake water and remained attached to Brittany who continued to reassure her. "It's okay. And you can swim. We had swimming lessons together, remember? It's okay. I'm sorry I tipped us over."

"Get me out of the water," she whined into Brittany's shoulder and held on tighter. "There's things in the water. Man eating turtles. Alligators. Alligator eating turtles."

"Santana," Brittany shushed her, and comfortingly tucked her hair back behind her ears and wiped the water from her face. "I think we scared them off," she said, as she lifted Santana back into the boat which had righted itself after ejecting the girls. Seeing that Santana was very close to tears Brittany decided to row them back to shore.

"Your boats are defective," Santana yelled at the boat hire guy as she stomped past him on the jetty. She aimed a kick at the loud hailer lying cone down on the wooden pontoon and booted it into the water. "And there should be warnings about pollution and things that lurk in lakes. And perverts!"

The boat guy stared after them in shock as Brittany worriedly pulled an almost hysterical Santana away, leaving a very wet set of footprints behind them. "And I am not a number!" Santana shouted back one last time over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. Lets go back to the hotel and get changed. I'm sorry. We were having such a good time and I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault. Except for the bit that is. But it's my fault I should have said no to the police horse but that turned out really fun."

"The best bit was when you took my hand without thinking about it," Britttany smiled sweetly at her before brushing her wet hair out of her eyes. "Damn it! I lost the cops hat."

"We'll get you another, sometime."

"I smell of lake," Santana whimpered, as she noticed the looks they were getting from passers by. She sniffled and shivered and let Brittany wrap her arm around her and tug her into her side to try and warm her up. She pouted at the wet slap of her feet against the ground and tried not to imagine the bedraggled lake monster she must resemble at that moment.

As they left the park the stares and looks became more noticeable as people puzzled over the two soaking wet, and one almost-but-trying-really-hard-not-to-cry, girls.

They were late for the lights at the pedestrian crossing but being cold and wet and miserable, decided to chance it. A Limousine, being driven at excessive speed for the middle of NY, screeched around the corner and then swerved to avoid them. It's brakes squealed and the vehicle slammed to halt in the middle of the road. Traffic horns and shouts quickly arose, the loudest was Santana, furious at being nearly killed.

"You fucking asshole!" She ranted. "You could have fucking killed us. You think because you drive some flash fucking Limo which I can see my fucking face in, you can do what you want? You nearly fucking wiped us into the concrete."

They, and the onlookers, watched for a short while as the Limo's occupants remained unresponsive. After a moment the back window wound down and a hand stuck out with a beckoning finger.

"Don't go," Brittany grabbed Santana's arm tightly. "It might be a hit man, or the cops."

"Cops don't drive limos."

"No, I'll go." Brittany pushed her back toward the pavement and stepped up to the open window. To the surprise of the gathered rubberneckers, Brittany squealed in delight and threw herself head first right into the open window until her legs disappeared inside.

Santana took a faltering step to the window and peered in after Brittany. She saw her hugging the person in the back of the car who winked at Santana and said, "I shoulda known. Giving Limo drivers abuse since 2011. The Mrs' Lopez."


	8. Chapter 8

**8.**

"Okay," said Barbra, scooting over to the middle of the seat now with a soggy girl under each arm Brittany on her right and Santana on her left both now safely inside the car away from prying eyes and curious pedestrians. "And I'm getting wet now."

They pulled back quickly, murmuring apologies, Santana wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffed despondently.

"But it's too late, I guess. Come here," and she pulled them into a hug again. "Not that I'm not happy to see you but, what is that god awful stink? Honey, is that pond weed in your hair?" she asked, plucking out some plant life from Santana's hair.

"Long story. We were in the lake," Santana's voice hitched as she tried not to burst into tears from relief of being safe and comfortable and still smelly but on the way to feeling better.

Barbra scrunched her nose up in disgust. "The lake? In the park?" Brittany nodded. "I cant believe your heads went under that water! Oh God, I hope you have good medical insurance."

"The best. Santana's dad is a doctor and gets all bad-ass about stuff like that. Wait, why would we need medical assurance?"

"Insurance, sweetie. Just in case of catching nast- uh, you know," she broke off as she caught a glimpse of Santana shaking her head in warning and staring grim faced. "Uh. never mind."

The car lurched to the side as the driver manoeuvred them out of the middle of the busy street and over to the side of the road.

"Who's the idiot you've got driving?" Santana grumbled.

The partition between the drivers seat and the comfortable luxury passenger area slid down and George stuck his head through the gap. "Hey guys."

"George, you ass! You nearly ran us over."

"I'm sorry about that an all but, to be honest, you were in the middle of the road, and I missed anyways. Whoa it smells funky in here," he turned up his nose at the distinct smell of lake water.

"I think that haircut makes people dumber," Santana muttered.

"What happened to you two?" George asked as he noticed their drowned appearance for the first time. Santana scowled and curled into Barbra while Brittany looked away guiltily "Gross, I'm gonna have to clean those seats you know."

"Serves you right for trying to kill us."

Barbra chuckled. "George. Take us to the girls' hotel, I think there's some dire need of a shower going on right here."

"And crank up the heating in here, we've just been for swim!" Santana ordered.

"George! You're a driver too?" Brittany asked, impressed by another of George's many talents. She scooted up to the partition and stuck her head through the window to check out the business end of the Limo. "Can you do crazy handbrake turns in the middle of NY traffic?"

"Sure I can, Britt. Didn't they teach you that in Drivers Ed?"

"Huh, I must have missed that lesson. I've only been stopped by the cops once, but I made it around central Lima four times before they caught me."

George held his hand up in respect and she leaned forward to high five him. "Why did they feel the need to stop you?" he asked, curiously.

"They said it was cos I was driving around in reverse. But I don't see what difference that makes."

Santana watched their friends warily. They didn't know Brittany as well as she did, hell, no one knew Brittany as well as she did, and as much as she liked them and knew they were liked in return, some people, no matter how good their intentions, didn't quite know what to make of Brittany's comments. She needn't have worried.

"George drives backwards all the time," Barbra said with a shrug. "It confuses the paparazzi." She looked down as she felt Santana smile into her shoulder.

"So?" Santana asked.

"Soooo?"

"So, how did we do?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about the judging." The girls completely ignored her comment and stared at her in anticipation. George could be heard chuckling in the background. "You were very good." She cleared her throat as the staring got too unnerving. "I'm really not going to say any more."

"Awww," said Brittany softly.

"But I gotta ask. That tall kid. What's up with him?"

"A very good question." Santana appeared to consider the mystery seriously.

"Finn!" Brittany laughed as she realised who Barbra was talking about.

"Did he have food poisoning or something? Some of those facial expressions weren't right."

"We've always wondered what's wrong with him," Santana said with a snort.

"Santana! He was concentrating on dancing."

"He needs to concentrate on not appearing constipated on stage. Why aren't you guys at rehearsals?"

"This evening is rehearsal. The others went sightseeing today."

"How come you're not with them?"

"We've been on our first date," Brittany announced proudly.

"Not first," Santana protested.

"Is too. First official."

"It's not, we've been on loads of dates."

"Not official ones."

"Britt, I'm not even going to argue with you."

"Good, cos you know I'm right." Brittany sat back triumphantly, convinced she had won that argument.

Barbra noticed Santana open her mouth to protest Brittany's declaration and interrupted before the disagreement could continue further. "So, the date?"

"You know the usual. Picnic... um, " Santana decided to keep the explanation simple. "Horse ride around the park, and then we were supposed to get dinner before we go for rehearsals. But there were a couple of incidents and... ya know." She indicated the general dishevelment and clothes which had stopped dripping but were still wet.

"I always wanted to do that, go on the horse and carriage ride," said Barbra, innocently not understanding what had gone down in the park. "Was it any good?"

Santana hummed non committally. "Great."

Brittany avoided eye contact and instead watched George swerve through traffic like a ninja.

"Then we went for the boat ride. Hey, does this thing fit through a drive through? Can we get a coffee?" Santana asked, hopefully. Brittany looked eagerly to George for his reaction, keen to see the beast of a car fit around the tight drive through lane.

"I'm sorry girls, I'm not supposed to be fraternising with the competitors. They take this stuff very seriously, some of those judges have got their panties in a permanent twist." Barbra didn't sound enthusiastic about her fellow judges or stringent rules they enforced. She gave Santana an apologetic smile.

"I could drive us through the drive through if George cant handle it," Brittany offered.

"No one is touching my baby!" George yelled suddenly from the front, his mind running wild with the thought of Brittany in control of his pride and joy. Her eyes widened in surprise and she sat back down taken aback by his outburst.

"Maybe another time when you've completed your emergency response training." he relented momentarily granting her a wink in the rear view mirror. She smirked.

"What about now then? Could you get in trouble for now?"

"I'd like to see them try. I'm sure George and I are allowed to rescue damsels in distress. However, if you happened to be extra eager for the showcase tomorrow and were at the theatre in time for the say, 7am sound check. I may happen to be there. We could drink a coffee in the same vicinity."

"Can we bring some friends?" asked Brittany.

"No, what? Britt!"

"It might help Rachel so she doesn't have another meltdown, possibly on stage, mid song this time. And she'll probably be there anyway at dawn. Just in case. San, it could help us win."

"Babs might not want to meet the vertically challenged psycho," Santana hissed across the woman in questions chest.

"That's not nice." Brittany attempted a frown causing Santana to ask Barbra sceptically.

"Do you?"

"Sure, bring your friends."

Santana huffed. "Fine but I'm bringing Quinn too."

Brittany smirked and failed to hide it. She tried to deflect by turning to Barbra. "After this thing is over can we hang out for a bit? We never get to spend any time with you."

"I would love to hang out with you."

"Really?" Brittany looked amazed.

Barbra laughed, thoroughly amused. "Really."

* * *

><p>To the surprise of the vendor trying to peddle tourist crap to any sucker available, a flash black Limousine pulled up outside the cheap ass hotel New Directions were staying in. It wasn't a place usually associated with Limos but stranger things have happened at sea and in New York. As the door opened he tried to peer inside, maybe there was someone famous in there he could sell shit to, they could afford it.<p>

"Outta my way hobo!" Two bedraggled girls stumbled out of the door and fell onto his cart knocking a pile of 'I heart the Big Apple' t-shirts to the floor.

"You can talk," he scowled as he hurriedly picked his merchandise off the sidewalk. "You stink!"

"Alright! Inside, Santana," insisted Brittany, dragging her by the arm to the door as she attempted to knock all his wares onto the street. "Thanks, bye!" Brittany shouted into the limo which caused Santana to turn her tourist rage into a wave to the car which beeped in return and sped off, cutting straight into the traffic without hitting anything.

"Hey hold up a second," Brittany held tight to Santana preventing her from entering the hotel as she caught sight of the rest of the glee club in the lobby, presumably waiting for them. Santana turned curiously then smiled softly at Brittany having gone shy all of a sudden as a light blush spread across her cheeks.

"I, uh, I just wanted to say that I had a lot of fun today. On our _date_," she said the words carefully, testing them out on her tongue as though for the first time. She shuffled her feet and looked up through her lashes.

Santana bit her lip at how adorable Brittany was being but couldn't hold back her lopsided grin. "Me too."

"I'm sorry we fell in, that was my fault."

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes, it was."

"It was, but I don't mind."

"And I'm sorry we got chased by the cops. That was my fault too."

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes, it was."

"Yeah, maybe. But, I had fun and we didn't get caught." Santana reached over and took Brittany's hand. "I always have fun with you," she reassured Brittany. "And as for cops and boats and possible waterborne diseases, hell, I'd ride a horse to the top of the Empire State building if that's what you wanted to do."

Brittany's eyes lit up either at that thought or simply the affirmation Santana had had a good time. Santana sighed as she realised she may have given Brittany ideas. "Anyway, we should do it again sometime, this proper date thing."

Brittany began to jump up and down in excitement then stopped and tried to look calm and cool and collected. "Totally."

With a smirk Santana wiggled an eyebrow. "So, you want to come up and see my hotel room?"

"I've already… oh," Brittany giggled and raised a hand to her chest in mock shock. "Santana! I'm a married woman."

"Yeah me too, so it's alright."

They gazed adoringly at each other, Brittany's head drooped forward like a lovesick puppy and Santana smiled back like a dazed fool, their heads moved slowly together eyes locked on each others lips only to be interrupted as a handful of bundled up white cotton was shoved in between them.

"You girls want to buy a t-shirt? You look like you need some new clothes, did you crawl out of the sewers? You want to be careful, there's alligators down there." The souvenir vendor risked his life for a sale. Noticing the muscles in Santana's jaw clench like a hurricane early warning system Brittany pulled her hurriedly into the hotel revolving doors.

"Everyone's in the lobby. I'd say we were late but my watch has stopped working."

"Urg, I need to get out of these clothes," Santana groaned as she felt the chafe of damp denim against her skin.

Brittany opened her mouth to give the only reply there could possibly be to that statement but was silenced by a swift kiss. "Game face on," Santana said and stormed into the hotel with a scowl on her face.

They entered the lobby where the rest of the Glee club, but mostly Rachel, were impatiently waiting for them to join their last rehearsal.

* * *

><p>Two pairs of eyes gleamed in the piercing light from the digital clock display on the nightstand as they observed their prey at precisely 05:58am.<p>

"This is a sucky idea. Lets just leave them." Santana muttered quietly enough so as not to alert the unsuspecting, sleeping girls.

Brittany ignored the comment instead focusing on not spilling the contents of the bucket she had wrapped in her arms. "Quinn will be so mad if this lands on her. She's scary when she's mad," she whispered.

"I can take mad Quinn."

"I don't want her to be mad at me."

"I wont let her. It's just a precaution. You know like, for self defence." Brittany looked unconvinced but leaned over and flicked on a lamp so they could see their victims clearly. Santana climbed up onto the end of Rachel's bed muttering, "Anyways, this was your idea now get on that bed. I'm only doing this to see the look on Q's face when she finds out we broke into her room like ninjas."

Brittany scrambled up without spilling the buckets contents as Santana took a deep breath and began to shout.

"It's six am, you lazy bitches, and this is your early morning wakeup call! You have exactly five seconds to get your deadbeat asses out of bed before my beautiful assistant tips this bucket of ice water over your head."

Quinn sat up like she had been electrocuted. "What? What is it? Is there a fire?" She squinted at the sight of Santana standing on Rachel's bed and Brittany at the end of her own bed biting her lip and looking nervously into a bucket. "There had better be a fire," she growled with suspicion. "Santana, get your wife off my bed if she's going to hurl into that bucket."

Rachel hadn't moved, then, her mouth opened but her eyes remained closed. "Cheese. Cheese. Save the cheese," she inexplicably mumbled.

"Get up. Now." Santana ordered in her Head Cheerleader voice. "Let me make this very clear. This is a once in a lifetime offer I wont be making again and you, Berry, should think twice about turning it down."

"Say yes! Say yes!" Brittany bounced up and down on her toes in excitement causing the water to slosh dangerously around the bucket.

Quinn eyed them with bleary eyed suspicion. "How the hell did you get in here?" Without waiting for an answer she flopped back onto her pillow and flung her arm up to cover her eyes. "Oh God! This is one my worst nightmares. Santana and Brittany being able to get into a locked room. What are you up to now?"

Rachel was now sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "Are they here? The agents, have they come for me?"

Everyone side eyed her warily, what the hell? Then they turned back to annoy Quinn. "We're on a tight schedule here and don't have time to explain. Just get up and get ready to go."

"Why?" Rachel mumbled, still under the influence of sleep. Her eyes opened wider as Brittany set the bucket down in between the two beds and ice clinked together like mini ice bergs in the rolling water.

"Rachel," Santana sighed deeply. "If I tell you, you wont shut up about it the whole way there, during and after. Now, I think you and I can get along fine when you're being quiet. If I don't tell you, you'll badger me until I snap and murder you. Your choice."

"I don't understand what's happening. You'll murder me if you do tell me and you'll murder me if you don't?" The abrupt wake up call was not doing Rachel's overactive imagination any favours. "Quinn!" she whimpered, hoping for some sanity.

Quinn let out a sound like a burble as she pulled her pillow over her head and buried herself under the bed covers. Two heavy weights landed on her bed one jumping up and down and the other pulled the pillow off her head and blew in her ear. "Gerrof me," she tried to half heartedly wriggle away.

"Get up, Quinnie. Get up. Up, up, up, up," Brittany chanted as Santana blew Quinn's hair so it fell over her face and tickled her nose. Quinn let out a growl.

"Hey, don't be like that. I'm not even touching you. Not touching, cant get mad." Santana sing songed infuriatingly.

Rachel threw off the covers and dangled her feet over the side of the bed before they could start to insist further that she get up. "Quinn, I think life would be easier if we just cooperated with them."

"Brittany, that had better not be your hand!" Quinn yelled suddenly, now wide awake.

Brittany grinned mischievously as Santana gave her a questioning look. "What? My hand slipped."

* * *

><p>With many threats and inappropriate hands making things move faster they were out of the hotel and on their way to the theatre before anyone else was awake to realise they were gone. At Brittany's insistence they had to stop to pick up morning coffee and muffins. She caused some confusion by ordering two more coffees than there were people but a sharp glare from Santana made Rachel decide not to question Brittany's reason for doing the things she did.<p>

"Why are we here so early?" Rachel moaned as the sun began to rise in the sky and the theatre loomed in front of them.

"Thought we could, ya know, hang out." Santana replied, looking startled as she realised what she had said as Rachel gave her a funny look. "Or, stake out the auditorium before we have to perform." Santana nodded to herself, that sounded more plausible. "So, uh... you can check out the set up before the other choirs get there. Right, B?"

"Right," Brittany nodded seriously, trying to look innocent and failing miserably. "And there's the 7am sound check. Don't forget that, Santana."

Santana rolled her eyes. "That too."

"How did you hear about a soundcheck?" Rachel perked up at the possibility of inside information. "I know I'm the first in line for pre competition preparation but we were up late rehearsing and your sudden last minute dedication is... mildly disconcerting."

"George," Brittany answered, as they reached the theatre and he opened the door for them.

"That's my name. Morning ladies! Thanks Britt," he smiled as she handed him a coffee. "You read my mind. Follow me," he led them to the stage but held Santana back for a second.

"You're disgustingly cheery for this time of the morning," Santana scowled at him.

"You should tell them before it happens so there's no surprise throwing up all over the boss or something," he whispered to Santana. "I'll be right back," he told the girls and left them standing around the deserted stage peering in to the empty auditorium.

"Okay Rachel, here's the thing. We brought you here under false pretences."

"Oh." Rachel took an anxious step backwards. "Is something horrible going to happen? Are you going to strip me and leave me here as a warning to all the glee clubs? Please, I'm begging you, no!"

"No, you fre-"

"Santana!" Brittany stepped forward putting a barrier between them "Rachel, it's okay. We'd never do anything like that to you. Unless you wanted us to strip you." Santana nudged her with her elbow. "Right, uh, not any more. We're on the same team and the team who flips together, sticks together."

Quinn took a sip of her coffee and watched the scene with quiet amusement.

"The hell are you two rabbiting about?" Santana sighed in frustration.

"It makes more sense when we're in Cheerios."

"All it is, is... it is... Shit." Santana paused and ran her hand through her hair, muttering to herself. "Oh man, this is going to be unbearable." She looked straight at Rachel and bit the bullet.

"You freaked out a bit the other day and we need you focused, so.. You're going to meet Barbra before the competition finals."

Rachel stared at her like a deer caught in headlights, unblinking. Quinn simply raised an eyebrow and calmly took another mouthful of coffee. She looked down at the extra cup Brittany had bought. Hmm.

"You broke her," Brittany whispered, watching Rachel with alarm.

"Now?" Rachel squeaked.

"Yes, now." Santana replied, ominously.

"Whuh-why are you doing this?"

"I thought you wanted to meet her!" Santana snapped at her with early morning exasperation. "We wants to win and we cant have you freaking out on stage because you catch another glimpse of Babs."

"And cos she knows how much you wanted to meet her."

Quinn snorted as Brittany gave away Santana's real reasoning.

"If you tell anyone I was nice to you I will find the trapdoor on this stage, shove you in it and make sure Lauren is standing on it for our entire performance. Then, after we win the competition I might just forget and leave you there."

"Santana, your threats were a lot more effective before Brittany got you wrapped around her little fi-"

"Santana!" A familiar voice interrupted them silencing Rachel's retort as Barbra made her way out onto the stage towards them.

"It's okay," Brittany whispered. "She's really cool, and nice, and cuddly."

Completely oblivious to Barbra's star power, Brittany skipped over and hugged the older woman then handed over the extra coffee. "You are a lifesaver, Britt. Exactly what I need, thanks. Morning girls. Santana, are you going to introduce your friends?"

"If we must," Santana sighed melodramatically. "Okay, sorry if they're a bit weird. This is Rachel I was telling you about."

Rachel's jaw was practically unhinged it was open so wide. She gaped openly at her idol, eyes wide and unblinking unable to move or form coherent thought or, in fact, breathe.

"This is incredible." Santana watched her reaction with interest. "Rachel Berry is speechless. She never shuts up usually, nice one."

"You're magic," Brittany eyed Barbra with awe.

Barbra smiled kindly at Rachel, having had plenty of experience with starstruck fans before.

"You silenced the Berry," Quinn watched Rachel in amazement.

"That's nothing kid. You she see how magic I am when it ain't 7am and I'm awake."

Rachel let out a strangled squeak in her quest for oxygen but nothing more happened. Brittany took an uneasy step away from her and eyed her as though she were about to explode at any second.

"Rachel, you're being weird." Santana slapped her slightly more than lightly around the head but she didn't even blink, her eyes fixed on their target.

In the meantime Brittany introduced Quinn, who smiled demurely and offered her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Quinn. I hear you're the sensible one," Barbra smiled warmly at her.

"Compared to these two, all the time," she smiled back. They both watched as Santana prodded Rachel in the shoulder hoping for some kind of reaction.

"Weirdo," Santana muttered with a frown.

A stage assistant came over and waved a clipboard at them. "All ready?" Barbra asked. "Right then, you girls take a seat. Nice to meet you Quinn, and Rachel," she smiled. "Maybe see you later after the show when the nerves aren't so... overpowering. Brittany, Santana," she grinned at them. "I know this is a foreign concept for you but try and stay out of trouble on my watch. Oh, and knock 'em dead today. I know you can do it."

Brittany carefully led an almost comatose Rachel to a seat in the front row and gingerly sat her down. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I think we broke her." She waved her hand in front of Rachel's unseeing eyes but there was no response.

"I cant believe it. Barbra fucking Streisand came to say hi and you freaked out!" Santana slumped into the seat next to Rachel who was still in her dazed state, and huffed at her. "I should have known you couldn't be cool to save your life."

Brittany ran a hand soothingly down her arm as they all watched Rachel. "I think she's artichoked. Too much hummus."

Quinn turned a bewildered gaze to Santana in hope of an interpretation of Brittany. Santana's eyebrow twitched and she muttered, "I could make Artie choke." Brittany's hand slipped into hers and she continued, providing a semblance of translation for Quinn. "She's not a vegetable, she's just... lost her mind."

On stage Barbra was preparing for the sound check and talking away to the technicians running all over the place. Eventually she got the thumbs up, the lights were dimmed and spotlight burned down onto the stage.

Santana whispered into Brittany's ear. "We shoulda brought popcorn. This might be good." Brittany grinned and out of nowhere produced a packet of Jolly Ranchers. "You are perfect," Santana grabbed the pack. Then, silence fell upon them as Barbra began to sing.

The tension throughout Rachel's body gradually subsided and she began to breathe more calmly. She blinked a few times and then sank back into her seat with a sigh as the melody soothed her and she absorbed the fact she was listening to Barbra live. One of her dreams was coming true right in front of her as her idol sang the opening lines of 'Don't Rain on my Parade' with out any musical accompaniment. To Santana's discomfort she noticed tears begin to course down Rachel's cheeks. She peered worriedly at Quinn who leaned over and awkwardly patted Rachel on the shoulder.

Those in the audience not crying, everyone but Rachel, were dumbfounded by the powerhouse on stage. Santana had to admit, Rachel's rendition of this song at sectionals had brought the house down but this, this was on a whole other level. This was the real deal, this was what inspired people to get up and sing and not stop until they made it. This made shivers run down her spine.

In the midst of the song and much to Santana's horror, Rachel suddenly grabbed ahold of her and spluttered through the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Thank you," she sobbed, throwing her arms tightly around Santana's waist.

Santana grimaced with alarm over Rachel's shoulder at Quinn who watched with amusement and she could hear Brittany giggling next to her. "You're touching me, get off!" She swatted at Rachel's clenched arm with her open palm trying not to touch her. "She's leaking on me, this top was clean on! Brittany!" Brittany reached over to grab Santana's flailing hands while Quinn pulled Rachel by the waist.

Barbra sighed into the microphone as she watched the scuffle in the front row. Her song was forgotten now as she was thoroughly distracted from her warm up by the yelling and tug of war in front of her. She exchanged a wry smile with George and watched as he went to help separate the girls.  
>After they'd calmed down and Rachel and Santana were separated by two seats with Quinn and Brittany now sitting in between them, Quinn asked. "What now?" They all realised Barbra had stopped singing and was deep in discussion with the stage technicians.<p>

"I'm going back to bed," said Santana with a great sigh. "I've been traumatised."

"I feel traumatised too," sniffled Rachel as she rubbed her right arm trying to restore blood flow to it after Santana had been forced to let go.

Barbra gave them a wave goodbye as she was led away surrounded by assistants, technicians and whoever else was pandering after her, leaving the girls in the relative quiet of the theatre.

"Jolly Rancher?" Brittany offered George with a sweet smile. George was their only company as he sat perched at the end of the row his arms folded and eyes narrowed, watching them like a hawk. It was too early for this shit.

It was now 7:30 and they had only an hour and a half until the competition began.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

Things were tense in the New Directions dressing room. Everyone was tightly wound up anxiously awaiting their call up for the ultimate performance and trying hard not to freak out in the interim. They were so tense that instead of snapping at each other, as some more than others were wont to do, they all just stared at the clock, walls or floor and grimaced at each other in near silence as sweat trickled down their backs.

"Crap, it's warm in here," grumbled Puck, loosening his tie as Mercedes dabbed concealer on his battered nose to hide the ripened bruise, courtesy of Brittany. Mike was walking around doing his stretches with his shirt unbuttoned which no one complained about.

"Why do we have the only dressing room without air con?" Kurt whimpered, fanning himself with a programme.

"No one cares about us," Rachel explained. "It's all about fawning over the superchoirs like Glandular Fever and Vocal Adrenaline."

"Britt, get over here," Puck ordered, and then amended as Santana raised a single razor sharp eyebrow. "I mean, uh, if I give you a bunk up you can get that window open." He pointed to a tiny window so high up it was almost on the ceiling but as their only source of air it would have to do.

Happy for the distraction, everyone watched as Brittany athletically manoeuvred herself onto Pucks shoulders and prised the window open allowing a faint puff of air in. The excitement was soon over only to be replaced with astonishment as Rachel started singing from out of Santana's boobs.

_'There you rest, with all the rest, of my accessories'_

"The hell?" Everyone stared at Santana's chest.

"That's 'My Headband'," Rachel gasped.

"Hey," Brittany jumped down from Puck's shoulders and walked over to cut off everyone's perving view. "Stop staring at Santana's boobs."

"Santana, I didn't realise you were such a big fan." Rachel cracked a beaming smile at her suddenly feeling a lot more friendly toward the poor girl now she knew she'd gone out of her way to help her meet Barbra.

"You wish," came the glowering reply. "Calm down, it's Britt's ringtone."

Brittany calmly reached over and put her hand down the front of Santana's dress then pulled out her phone from Santana's twins while everyone watched in full on gawking mode. She sat down next to Santana on the arm of the threadbare sofa which was one of the few sticks of furniture in the room, and spoke in a hushed voice into her phone. After an awkward minute of Santana side eyeing Rachel warily, Brittany reported back.

"My mom's here, and my sister, they're sitting with your dad, San. They've got the camera ready to record and three spare batteries."

"Oh great," Santana muttered unenthusiastically inspecting her flawless fingernails.

"My mom said everyone's sitting together, everyone's parents. And they've all got the t-shirts on so they'll be easy to see."

Artie came rolling into the room as Brittany replaced her phone back in its hiding place. "Guess whuuuuuu?" He squeaked as he watched Brittany's hand and Santana's boobs interact in front of his eyes.

"Eyes centre RoboNerd!" Santana snapped at him.

He gulped and then stared worriedly around the room scared that he had walked into an orgy he hadn't been invited to. "Sue Sylvester is in the front row."

"Does she look like she has anything that could be used as a weapon?" Quinn asked, seriously.

"I didn't hang around long enough to see. I just rolled on out of there."

"Quinn, Santana. You should go and check it out," Rachel ordered. She licked her lips nervously as they both quirked a bemused eyebrow and stared at her. "Well, she likes you!" Rachel reasoned with them. They exchanged a puzzled glance as she explained. "She may be less likely to throw things at you two. Brittany's needed here for last minute emergency choreography lessons with Finn. Brittany!" she yelled sharply as Brittany got carried away with replacing her phone. She looked up with a smirk and leaned over to nuzzle into Santana's neck.

"Hey!" Finn looked up with a hurt expression from where he had been staring intently at his feet, willing them with the power of his mind to keep moving in damn time and trying not to stare at Santana's boobs or anyone else's boobs for that matter. The girls performance dresses left very little to the imagination.

"Fine," Quinn stood up suddenly. "But you're coming with us."

"Awww, I don't want to go with Rachel," Santana sighed as Quinn pulled her up by her arm away from Brittany and towed her towards the door.

"Stop whinging."

* * *

><p>"Hey look, Brad's here!" Rachel burbled excitedly as she peered out form the side stage entrance. Sure enough the long suffering piano player was sitting at the end of a row around twelve rows back from the stage, tapping a programme into his palm as he waited for the show to begin. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and scrunched his nose.<p>

"What, seriously?" Santana took a look in disbelief.

Rachel jumped up and waved her arms in his direction casting her megawatt grin at him. For Brad's part, he looked mortified at having been caught and held his programme up in front of his face. Santana snorted at his reaction.

Undeterred Rachel turned to the girls beside her. "I'm going to say hi. Are you coming?"

"Uh no?" Santana gave her a disgusted look. "But tell him Britt said hi," she called as Rachel breezed away.

She then followed a chuckling Quinn who managed not to comment on Santana's glaring soft side as they peeped around the curtain warily looking for Sue. "I don't see her."

"She's not in the front row."

They scoured the seats looking for the demonic Coach then jumped and squealed as a familiar chilling voice came from behind them.

"Ladies." _Still got it, S_ue thought smugly to herself as she watched Santana's hand fly to cover her heart as her chest heaved with the shock.

"You shouldn't be back here," Quinn said warily eyeing the all too happy coach.

"I just came to wish you luck," Sue said innocently.

"Sure we believe you, thousands wouldn't. What's in the bag?" Santana asked suspiciously as the holdall over her shoulder clinked. "And what are you doing here at all?"

"As an internationally renowned and multiple Nationals champion cheerleading coach, I get free tickets to anything I want and I really couldn't resist the chance to see the Glee club fall flat on its face, one last time," she sneered, stressing the last three words.

Quinn's face set in a frown as she glared at the glee club's nemesis. They couldn't allow the psychotically challenged woman to try and bring them down this one last time. Quinn nudged Santana in the ribs and hissed. "Where's George? Make him get rid of her. She's probably got a bomb or something."

Santana smirked, she knew George would come in useful one day. "Big G!" She called.

George looked up from along the passage where he had been engrossed in a battered paperback novel, he had decided to stay well out of everyone's way on this highly stressful day. "Sup?"

"This crazy woman snuck through security. She needs to be searched at least. For explosives and shit like that."

"What?" George's eyes narrowed dangerously as he eyed the tall, gangly woman.

"Really Jugs, that's the best you can come up with? I thought I taught you better than that." Sue scoffed at the threat.

"Yeah, you taught me to do everything possible not to end up like you."

"George, this is serious. I bet she's got weapons," Quinn said seriously.

Seeing the deadly serious look on Quinn's face he snapped into action and grabbed Sue by the arm. "Come with me."

"What? This is outrageous. Get our hands off me!"

"Did that bag get searched when you came in?" he asked.

"Unhand me you giant troll oaf. I don't get searched like the common glitter eating filth. Don't you know who I am?"

"No, I don't, and I don't really care. Everyone gets security checked or they don't get in."

"Unhand me before I go all Krav Maga on your finely toned backside."

"Shut up, keep moving, and get your eyes off my fine ass. I will see your Krav Maga and raise you some Kung Fu, so don't try any funny business with me."

Quinn and Santana exchanged a look of unadulterated gleeas Sue was dragged away from them, they had witnessed Sue Sylvester finally meeting someone who wasn't in the least bit intimidated by her. Ha!

* * *

><p>The audience were still milling around waiting for the five minute warning to take their seats. There was still a line at the concession stand longer than Rachel's top ten list of musicals (hint: she couldn't narrow it down to ten) and a ridiculous queue for the ladies bathroom while no one was waiting for the mens.<p>

At the end of row six, Dr Lopez chatted animatedly with Brittany's mother and sister before they left him momentarily with his arms full of their bags, cameras, jackets and drinks for a last minute run to the concession stand. He went over and took his seat close to the judges box. Placing at least a weeks worth of supplies on the Pierce's seats he looked around as he heard someone call his name.

"Mr Lopez? Over here!"

Puzzled, he looked up to the nearby judges box to see Barbra get up out of her seat and walk around to him. "Mr Lopez?"

He nodded dumbly.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Barbra." She held out her hand for him to shake.

"Uhhhh, yes you are. I mean, pardon me, how do you know who I am?"

"It's written on your t-shirt," she cast an amused glance to his New Directions shirt with Lopez printed proudly across the back.

"Oh, yes, of course." He cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Hello. You're real."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Uh I mean, they weren't making it up. Santana and Brittany, when they said you're friends."

"Of course not. Do they usually make things like that up?"

"Uh well, I don't often know what Brittany is talking about but, no, I suppose never."

"We spoke on the phone as well."

"Yes but," he rubbed his nose, deep in consideration. "They could pull it off."

"No doubt," she agreed. "You should have more faith in your daughter, Mr Lopez, and your daughter in law," she smiled at him and he couldn't help but mirror it in return. "They're quite a force of nature."

"Ha!" he couldn't help but snort. "You should try living with them. They blew up the pool once. Just how exactly does someone do that?" he asked not expecting an answer. "A swimming pool! They cracked the wall and flooded the basement. To this day I don't know how they did it."

* * *

><p>With a hmmph and a flounce, Rachel made her way back to the business side of the stage having been unable to find Brad when she got to his seat. She had scanned the room, hawklike, but he was nowhere to be seen. Backstage she paused, finding the quiet out of the way area Santana and Quinn had used to spy on the other acts and took a minute to savour the moments peace. She watched as the audience numbers swelled as they began to filter in and take their places. Lots and lots of peaople and then lots and lots more. And they kept on coming. Something like nerves set in.<p>

Misery. Gut wrenching, cold sweating, misery was the only way to describe it. Rachel looked down at her hand as it shook uncontrollably in front of her. So this is what this feels like.

"Hey!" Rachel looked around to see Shelby approaching her from the corridor which led to the dressing rooms. "You're on next, just wanted to say good luck," she smiled.

Rachel didn't answer but stared at her mother wide eyed and like she might vomit at any second.

"Rachel, are you okay?" Shelby asked getting worried. "You look a little pale."

"I don't feel too good," Rachel squeaked.

Shelby tentatively ran her palm along Rachel's arm soothingly. "It's only the nerves, you'll be fine. This is what you were born for." Rachel gave her a funny big brown eyed look. "Sorry, I mean, you know what I mean."

"It's not that. I can sing anything, anywhere, anytime. I'm ready for any performance, I can do this and win, I know it."

"Then why do you look like you're about to keel over?"

"Barbra Streisand is out there." The words almost disappeared they were squeaked so high. "She's my idol. She'll be watching me, judging me. What if she thinks I'm no good? I saw her this morning, without adequate warning I might add, and I wasn't prepared, I choked."

Shelby squeezed Rachel's shoulder comfortingly. "If she's got ears, she'll know how good you are. I'll be out there too, watching you. I met Santana's father earlier, he's getting very excited about the show. He said he's never seen anything like this before so I said I'd sit with him and explain what was going on while New Directions were performing. I don't think Santana explained what these sort of events are all about."

"You did? You are? You'll be watching?" Rachel looked horrified. "Oh God! Not you, too. What if I screw it up what if I sing the wrong note or forget the words?"

"You just said you had it in the bag."

"But not with you and Barbra watching me. This is worse than if just my Dads were here." She mumbled. "At least I don't have to impress them."

"What would be worse, me or Barbra?"

"I'm gonna be sick."

Shelby hugged her tightly and Rachel felt herself relax into her mothers arms. "You can do it. I'll be watching Barbra's reaction and I'll tell you how much she loves it."

Rachel gave her a shy smile. "Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Rachel stood at the centre of the curtain waiting for her cue. As her team mates filed past her into position to support her solo, each member of New Directions either hugged her, squeezed her shoulder or smiled encouragement at her as they moved into positions. One person gave her an almost friendly punch in the upper arm. She turned and watched them all, mildly bewildered. Mr Schue nodded at her asking if she was ready. She cast another glance over her clubmates and broke out a true Rachel Berry toothy grin. She was about to go on stage and sing her heart out with her friends at her back and her mother, fathers and idol in the audience. Rachel Barbra Berry had been born for this moment.<p>

Rachel's happy yet shy smile at the end of her solo indicated she had hit it out of the park and handed in, as she had expected, a perfect performance. She had raised goosebumps on every single person listening and left them spellbound. Pity the act who had to follow that.

Unfortunately for the group in question, next up were Vocal Adrenaline who broke into a Streisand themed medley. The collectedly astounded judges in the judges box could hear shrieks of laughter emanating from the wings during a quieter moment at the beginning of the performance.

"What the-" was interrupted with a scream of laughter, "actual fu-" The words were cut off as a hand glomped over Santana's mouth effectively shutting her up.

Barbra and Dr Lopez caught each other's eye and had to look away to stop from joining in the laughter. They had recognised that voice.

In the wings New Directions watched the obscenely grovelling performance, along with the now crippled ex-lead of Vocal Adrenaline, Angelica. Artie rolled and parked his wheelchair next to hers but she just glowered at him and snapped at him to get away from her. "Have fun at your pity party," Angelica sneered. "They only let you losers in because they felt sorry for you."

"I've had enough of this bullshit." Santana sneered at her in disgust. "Your brown nosing wont get you anywhere."

"It's a homage to the great Barbra!"

"Shut the fuck up. If you were a horse they'd take you out back and shoot you for being so very fucking lame. Piece of bitch, skanky, puta faced-" Puck grabbed a hold of Santana before she could plant her fist in the girls face or kick her elevated plaster cast leg.

"My god, Santana. Are you in league with Mr Schuester to ruin my career? We've got one song left to perform and you're going all Lima Heights now?" Rachel floundered with worry. "Are you going to do something stupid and get us disqualified at the last second?"

"What? Santana would never do that, would you?" Brittany asked, wanting the whole group to be reassured.

She smiled sweetly. "Of course not. I wouldn't do a thing like that. Aren't last minute, stupid stunts more your kind of thing anyway, Berry?"

"That was one time!" Rachel spluttered. "Finn and I are happily together and nothing will happen like that!"

"Come on guys, we're on again in five." Mr Schue tried to hastily change the subject. "Before you go on, remember this. This is the probably the last time you'll all be performing together." He paused and they all looked around solemnly. "So go out there and sing til your hearts burst, but, most importantly, have fun and enjoy it."

There was a last minute group hustle which turned into a hug and then a pile of laughing bodies and they all collapsed on each other.

"Alright guys, c'mon." Mr Schue tried to usher them to their places while a reinterpretation of 'Funny Girl' portion of the disturbing, arse licking medley rang in the air. Santana made her way to the other side of the stage where she was to start from and could daydream of the many ways she could make the lame sub par bitches pay, and get away with it.

"You think she's gonna do something?" Kurt eyed her worriedly.

"I wish she would," Puck sighed.

"We simply have to appeal to Santana's moral centre, her common sense, her good side." Rachel paused for dramatic effect. "Brittany, you have to get Santana to behave herself."

Brittany scrunched up her nose in thought and then smirked. "It's all under control. No one can resist the Brittany S. Pierce charm. Especially not Santana."

Puck grinned and held his palm up for a high five which Brittany slapped with a smack and then grinned. Rachel nudged Brittany to get to work and distract Santana. "Oh, you mean now?"

"While the opposition are out of reach and safely on stage."

Brittany walked straight up to Santana completely invading her personal space, so close that Santana had to take step back. "So hi," she husked near Santana's ear.

"Well, hey to you too, Britt."

"I just wanted to say, you know, you're gonna be awesome out there." She took another step toward her until they were in dangerously close proximity. Santana gulped, they were in a rather open place with performers everywhere and many stage hands within viewing distance and Brittany was almost on top of her.

"Uh thanks B, you're going to be awesome too. We're both going to be totally awesome. Everything is," her voice disappeared into a hoarse whisper, "awesome."

Brittany ran her hand along Santana's collar, her fingers lightly brushing her warm neck which was now finding her collar far too restricting. Santana's eyes widened and her chest rose and fell rapidly. "Thu uh uh awesome," her words tailed off into a mumble.

"Okay, I have to be on the other side of the stage and get in position but I'll see you soon." Brittany said matter of factly and slapped Santana on the ass as she walked off.

"Dude, you're so getting laid tonight," Puck whispered in Santana's ear. "Score!" he held up his hand for a high five but Santana couldn't take her eyes off of Brittany's skirt as it swished away from her, not even to punch him for calling her dude. She was so very thoroughly distracted. Vocal who?

Vocal Adrenaline exited the stage and New Directions entered it with the minimum of fuss. There seemed to be a lot of adults and chaperones conveniently placed to dampen any trouble even though George was still away probably engaged in a bare knuckle fight with Sue in a dark alley somewhere.

* * *

><p>They came jumping, laughing and crying off stage buzzing with the adrenaline from performing only to be met with the sight of Vocal Adrenaline still hanging around waiting to go on for their last performance. Despite the show they had just put on and probably due to some sick fascination for torturing themselves, they all decided to stay and watch the main competition's final number before the judging would take place.<p>

Quinn, Puck and Brittany stood together all laughing as Brittany jumped up and down still full of excitement at their last number. Santana looked over where she was laughing with Kurt, Mercedes and Tina and grinned fondly at Brittany's exhilarated happiness. They had executed that number flawlessly and if they didn't win it'd be criminal.

Not too far behind Puck, Angelica side eyed Quinn suspiciously and the Glee crowd couldn't believe their ears as they overheard her whispering from her wheelchair where she was in conference with Scotty. "Wasn't she that girl who gave birth actually on stage?" Angelica asked without worrying too much about keeping her voice down. "Man, what a slut."

The blood drained from Quinn's face and she turned away so no one could see her heart plummet. "Don't," she whispered raspily as Puck's jaw set.

"She's full of shit."

"Let it go. The show must go on. I've had a lot of experience with it. Getting mad at them wont change anything. The only way to win is to wipe the stage with them."

Puck caught a glimpse of the hurt in her eyes. "You sure? I'll bust some skulls if you want. Even crippled girls, I don't mind." They both watched frozen momentarily with shock as Brittany stormed past them and over to Angelica and Scotty.

"Oh shit. What's worse than Santana going all 'Lima Heights'?" Puck asked an open question.

"Brittany going all 'Lima Heights'," finished Quinn.

"Don't talk about my friend like that!" Brittany's voice was hard and angry, only Santana had ever managed to elicit it from her before now. "You don't know anything about her."

Further away, Mercedes cast a puzzled look at Santana. The girl was standing next to her not listening to Kurt and Tina who were with them talking over their performance. She was rather oddly radiating heat. "Are you okay?" She asked Santana, interrupting Kurt's second by second analysis of his sweet moves.

Santana's eyes narrowed and her eyes glazed over. She didn't hear a word Mercedes said to her or what Kurt had been blabbering on about.

"Aren't you the dumb dykey one who tried to break my leg?" Angelica sneered. "Get away from, me I don't want to catch the gay," She put her hands on the arms of her wheelchair and pushed herself up to stand. The chair rolled back and into Brittany's shin. Brittany's yelp could be heard all over the backstage area.

Pucks eyebrows rose in line with his mohawk and a smile ghosted his face as he felt the air whip by him where Santana had sprinted past him seconds before. It was so fucking on.

"Wait!" Mercedes realised what was happening and went to grab Santana but it was too late. Santana ran across the backstage area and threw herself in the air hurtling towards Angelica. Brittany looked up from where she was rubbing her shin as one second the girl was standing in front of her, then there was a blur and then, there was no one there.

The music for Vocal Adrenaline's final number began as the two girls landed out on the stage with a thud and a ferocious scream. Angelica's knees scraped the wooden floor and she slapped her palms on the ground to stop her head from hitting it. She whipped her head around, her ponytail swishing to have her vision obscured by Santana landing right on top of her and grabbing her by the throat. "You can't hit me, I'm crippled!"

"Watch me, bitch."

There was a gasp from the audience then murmuring and then some cat calls and cheers as the two girls fought on stage to the backing soundtrack of 'Two Tribes'.

From the judges box Barbra looked up at the scream thinking that was odd to start a song with. Ahh. Where the hell was George when he was supposed to be there? She rolled her eyes as Santana kneed Angelica in the non broken shin and screamed. "How do you like it, you psycho?" Angelica grabbed a fistful of Santana's hair in retaliation and they rolled over and over to the edge of the stage.

Something clicked into place and shaken from their show mentality the rest of the show choir moved to help their team mate. Those members of Vocal Adrenaline still in the wings ran past to help but Quinn's foot just happened to stick out and trip up one of the boys who tumbled out onto the stage face first. Someone snarled and all of Vocal Adrenaline poured on stage, ignoring Goolsby's shouts for order.

"New Directions attack!" Someone screamed. She would deny it later but it sounded suspiciously like Rachel's voice, as without hesitation they all ran on stage to fight their arch enemies and the two show choirs met like two walls of water colliding.

Rachel screeched as she smacked one girl on the head with her personal bedazzled microphone. "Don't anyone break the stage. Rita Moreno performed here!"

Lauren had two boys in headlocks under each arm and was sitting on a third. She grinned happily at Santana who was being dragged past by three girls. "Awesome idea, Lopez!"

"Grrrrrrrrraaaarrrgggh," came the strangled reply. Santana dropped suddenly to the floor, surprising the girls and swiped their legs out from under them then dropping down on them, elbows first. She then dragged one girl by the hair and shoved her off the edge of the stage.

The noise from the surprised audience gradually rose, getting louder and louder as they watched the riotous rumble on stage. Rather conspicuously a small section of the crowd taking up around two rows sat rather stunned in their seats and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh my boy!" Mrs Chang wailed as Mike took a slap to the back of his head with a flying shoe.

"Leroy, you're getting this all on camera, right?" Quinn's mother asked.

"Sure am," Rachel's Dad chuckled as his daughter joined Puck in a Jewish tag team of ass kicking.

Artie rolled full pelt into a group of boys heading for Finn and Puck. Then his eyes gleamed as he locked eyes on the perfect opponent. One of the weedier looking boys had taken charge of the abandoned wheelchair and was ramming it repeatedly into Finn making him hop in agony. Despite this he didn't let go of the three legs he was pulling from a pile of bodies on the ground. As he tugged, Sam crawled out. "Thanks dude," he gasped.

There were screams from the front row as Mercedes and two girls rolled off the stage into the crowd. Seats were quickly vacated near them and after an intense scuffle, Mercedes stood, brushed off her sleeves and climbed back onto the stage. No one else got up.

"That's my girl!" Her father hollered and stood up applauding her.

Tina and Mike teamed up, tripping and knocking everyone they could reach off balance. The Puckasaurus roared as he discovered the trapdoor and started stuffing people down into it as Lauren helped by rolling limp bodies across the stage to him.

Quinn and Brittany watched on in stunned silence at the violence from the side of the stage. "No, no fighting," Brittany said totally ineffectually. She looked desperately at Quinn for help. "Stop them, Quinn."

Quinn shrugged then went to join in as Kurt and Rachel started yelling war cries and ran full tilt at Scotty who was crying, "Not the hair! Don't pull out my hair!"

She slapped her cardigan around Angelica's legs, whipping her before she could get a shot in at Santana with a fire extinguisher. Angelica dropped the extinguisher and it landed on her good foot. She collapsed to the floor and sobbed as Quinn took one leg and Santana the other and they dragged her to the open trapdoor.

It came down to Brittany finally unleashing the fire hose on them all to make them stop. Unfortunately the water pressure was too much for her to handle and the hose snaked and slithered all over the stage bashing into everything and soaking everyone on the stage and in the first fifteen rows who screamed and ran away. Someone smashed the fire alarm and the alarm blared out throughout the building scaring the crap out of everyone it was so loud.

George had made his way backstage by this time and turned the rogue fire hose off, but it was too late. He ran over to Brittany at the edge of the stage and they stared at the devastation around them. They watched Santana standing tall in the middle of all the drenched bodies sprawled all over the stage at her feet.

Looking out they could recognise some of the faces staring back. At the back of one of the aisles, outo f reach of the water, Santana's father and Brittany's mom and sister were standing shocked. Barbra stood off to the side with an inscrutable expression on her face and Mr Schue and Brad were flanked with horrified, and some secretly proud, parents.

Santana surveyed the devastation of two show choirs at her feet and yelled. "And that's what you get for messing wi-whu-whuh-" She broke down into tears and wailed. "Brittany!"

Brittany made her way over the moaning, exhausted, waterlogged bodies, (herself still bone dry) and took Santana in her arms. She whispered comforting words into her ear as Santana sobbed hysterically into her neck. She looked up as red lights flickered through the open doors and sirens screamed as the cops burst in and ran down the aisles towards them.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: If anyone is still reading this – Hi, and sorry for the long wait. This is for mykindofparty. Who's kind of persistently insistent._

_Recap: There was a slight disagreement on stage at nationals between new directions and vocal adrenaline._

* * *

><p>10.<p>

The auditorium had emptied, apart from Santana and Brittany in the front row, a police officer standing in front of them and Santana's father and Brittany's mother sitting two rows behind them on 'guard duty'.

The officer noticed Brittany's spotless appearance apart from her rumpled and tear stained shirt where Santana had had to be prised from her arms to part them.

"Names?"

"Mike Chang."

"Brittany!" Mrs Pierce's voice reminded her exactly who was sitting within earshot.

Brittany sighed and tightened her grip on Santana's hand. "Hmmph. Fine, my name is Brittany S. Pierce. Spelt with an 'r'."

The officer stared at the name written down on his notebook in puzzlement as he thought it over then decided wisely to move on. "And you?"

"Rachel Berry."

"Santana!"

Santana scowled at her father. "Santana Lopez."

"Just a few questions for you two ladies. Are you responsible for this?"

"For what?"

"This devastation here." The officer indicated the debris strewn stage behind him where water was trickling over the edge and dripping into the Orchestral pit. Piles of soggy articles of clothing, the odd shoe, and an abandoned wheelchair which lay discarded on its side with the wheel still spinning, were visible. A trail of blood splatters led off the stage from where two teeth lay aboandoned. Apart from that, it was deserted.

"Define responsible," Santana asked.

"Santana!" Her father snapped warningly from where he was sitting a few seats away.

"No," she answered succinctly.

"What about you, Miss Pierce?"

"I stopped it. With the hose. I didn't start it. I'm like, a hero. Can I get one of those hats?" She asked gazing adoringly at the officers hat.

His eyes narrowed and he stared closely at the two girls as though trying to work out where he had seen them before.

"Did you two steal a horse?"

"What kind of horse?" Brittany asked.

Santana could feel her heart plummet into her stomach and she squeezed Brittany's hand tightly in warning and tried to think fast.

"A police horse," the officer clarified with heightened suspicion.

"Psssh, don't be silly. There aren't any horses in New York. Have you seen the insane amount of traffic in this town?" Santana answered smoothly for them both. "Where would we even get one from? A pet store? Have you ever seen a horse in a pet store?" Santana asked the officer. When no reply was forthcoming she looked to Brittany.

"No," she pondered thoughtfully. "Maybe they keep them out back, or they're really popular and sell out. Where _do_ you buy horses from?" She turned her questioning gaze to the cop who was getting more and more discombobulated by the second.

Santana was at this point very much aware of her father who was had his head in his hands in despair as he listened to them from a few rows away witnessing them in action.

"That's enough!" Dr Lopez intervened "Brittany, did you take the first punch?"

"No," she mumbled.

"I'll take it from here," Dr Lopez said to Mrs Pierce.

She sighed and nodded. "Brittany, come with me."

"You, stay," he ordered in his scary 'Dad' voice as Santana made to stand up and join her. Brittany looked relieved to be excused but hesitated and gazed worriedly at Santana. Santana tried to smile reassuringly but it came off as rather pitiful.

"I'll see you outside. It's okay." She gulped as Brittany stepped away from her then frantically grabbed her arm and hissed. "If I'm not out in fifteen minutes get George."

She watched Brittany exit the room and fidgeted somewhat nervously as her father sat next to her.

"So, Officer. How can my daughter assist you with your enquiries?"

* * *

><p>Brittany was watching the door to the theatre as the cop came out alone. Five minutes later Santana and her father exited the building, the last two people to leave the theatre. Brittany sighed with relief as she watched Santana blink in the bright daylight and take in the scene before her, apparently unscathed.<p>

As they were the last two out of the building, and one of them a riot instigator, naturally everyone turned and looked at them. Dr Lopez did not look amused at the consequences of Santana's actions taking over the street whereas his daughter looked deflated as she squinted her eyes in the light and their surroundings eventually became clearer.

It was like the aftermath of a disaster movie.

Someone had overdone the call for help and three fire trucks, seven ambulances and nine police cars blocked off the road drawing every kind of attention to them with all their lights flashing. Overhead, a news helicopter buzzed around like an annoying insect trying to find out was happening. The only thing stopping the street level news crews from harassing the show choir contestants was the fact the police had taped off the street so no one else could get in.

In the middle of the street, competitors who had participated in the brawl and other unfortunately situated innocent onlookers like the audience, were undergoing treatment and giving statements.

_Statements! What the hell? Wasn't this all a bit excessive? _Santana tried to appear inconspicuous by not making eye contact with any adults. Scanning the crowd she paid no attention to her father, who was talking to a paramedic about the situation, until her eyes rested on Brittany. She spotted her on the far side of the crowd with the rest of the glee club, wrapped in a blanket and listening dejectedly to whatever her mother was emphatically telling her as her little sister jumped up and down beside them excitedly while making punching motions with her flailing arms.

Dr Lopez looked over at the group of show choir organisers and judges conversing intensely nearby, curious as to their reaction. Barbra caught his glance and he rolled his eyes in classic Lopez style as she waked over to them whilst failing to hide a smirk.

Brittany looked over hopefully as Barbra walked over to Santana and spoke to her and her father although she had no idea what was being said. It didn't look good as Santana scowled and left the two adults to talk.

"Wait over there," Santana's father indicated to her and she slunk off to where Mercedes and Kurt were huddled under blankets all the soaking wet kids had been provided with by the paramedics.

"Looks like you've got an admirer," Mercedes said indicating with a nod. Santana turned curiously to see Brittany at the far side of the group standing with her family gazing at her with mysterious smile on her face, her mothers words apparently going in one ear and out the other. Finding herself unable to look away with a slight blush Santana returned the smile and they stared at each other across the crowd. Brittany tuned out her mothers admonishments about responsibility and setting an example as she soaked in Santana's rare, genuine, nose scrunching, eye crinkling smile that made Brittany's heart flutter and lift her off the ground.

Santana gulped when Brittany shrugged off her blanket and made her way through the crowd and sat down next to her. Her eyes flickered around wildly not knowing where to look as Brittany rested her head on Santana's shoulder just like old times and sighed contentedly. "Its been a long day," she sighed.

Santana reached up and brushed the hair from where it had fallen across Brittany's eyes.

"I'm supposed to be mad at you. You started a riot."

Santana opened her mouth to speak but Brittany put her finger to cover her lips.

"Don't say anything else or you'll find out I'm not that mad after all and probably screw this moment up. Look like I'm mad at you so my Mom can see."

Santana just looked confused but then under the finger her lips slowly turned to a smile.

Brittany's mother threw her hands up in the air in despair at the sight of the two of them then tried to stop her younger daughter from re-enacting the whole battle over the phone to her rather bemused father.

Rachel snuck up close to Santana and whispered with reverence as she stared over at Barbra talking away with Dr Lopez. "Is that a Barbravention? Yours is so much cooler than mine. I mean, you actually have Barbra Streisand slapping you upside of the head, I just had Kurt in a jaunty hat."

"I beg your pardon!" Kurt spluttered in indignation. "Jaunty? That hat was a masterpiece."

"Do one, shortstop," Santana snapped at Rachel and scowled as she watched her father deep in conversation with Barbra. Brittany nudged her shoulder as Rachel stalked off, hurt.

"Ugggh," she sighed heavily and spoke softly into Brittany's ear. "My Dad is mad. So, so mad. You wont believe what he wants me to do."

"What's that?"

"The cruellest, most twisted thing he could think of." Brittany raised an eyebrow sceptically. Santana sighed in defeat. "Watch and learn," she said as she sat up straight. "Hey guys!" Santana called out to catch her friends' attention. "Look, I wanted to say... that... ya know... I guess, I'm sorry. Especially to..." she struggled for the next word and eventually managed to cough out the name. "Rachel. I know how important this all is to you because you never shut up about it."

Brittany nudged her again.

"Santana. Imma stop you right there because I'm more interested in what you've got on your face," Mercedes stared in fascination at the marking down the side of the girl's flushed cheeks.

"Oh, uh. It's blood." There was a gasp and everyone stared worriedly at her face. "Don't worry, it's not mine," Santana explained.

Everyone visibly relaxed. "I think it was that red heads," she said while swiping at her cheek.

Puck squinted at the smudge marks then spoke. "You've nothing to apologise for as far as I'm concerned. And sure, I cant feel my right arm and I admit that's slightly worrying, but I chose to elbow that guy in the head and if he hadn't of moved I might be in jail being someone's bit-"

"What Puck is trying to say is..." Quinn interrupted.

"We lost," Finn sighed.

"We lost spectacularly, with a bang," Mercedes emphasized.

"It was very dramatic," Kurt stared into the distance dreamily reminiscing of the high drama which had gone down on stage.

"But we got to the last five," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah."

"We would only have won anyway so there wasn't much point in sticking around," Mike grinned.

"And we beat the shit out of Vocal Adrenaline. Which is always fun," Puck had to add.

"Well that goes without saying," Quinn agreed.

"At least no one will ever forget the New Directions," Rachel beamed triumphantly.

Santana laughed and shook her head at their reactions.

"I'm sorry. I've been saying that a lot over the past year or so but I'm sorry," Santana said, sincerely this time. "I'd like to take us all out for a meal, if you're all not too completely mad at me."

"I thought your allowance was confiscated and your credit cards revoked," Quinn puzzled.

"True, but my Dad is paying. He really enjoyed our performance. It's the first one he's been to and I think he liked it, apart from the 'wanton violence'. So he said he'd take us all out. Whadda ya say?"

"Say yes," Brittany shouted from next to her where she was bouncing excitedly on her heels as the Glee club, still high on adrenaline, cheered. Free food? Yes please, they didn't need to be asked twice.

"Rachel, we needs to have words." Santana grabbed Rachel's arm and tugged her off to the side of their group just enough so their conversation couldn't be easily overheard.

"Um, alright. I accept your apology," she squeaked nervously and made to scurry away.

"What? No, not that. You and me, we do deal?"

"Pardon me?"

"You and me. We do deal. God, can't you just work with me here? I'm trying to speak the language of your people."

"And you think my people are... the Russian Mafia?"

"I don't know any Hebrew, okay?"

"Neither do I! Not conversational anyway. How about we try speaking like Americans?"

"Whatever. Anyway, I realise in hindsight I could have made a shit tonne of gold off of you meeting Babs but I'm willing to let your payment slide so long as you do me a favour."

Rachel shot an uneasy glance towards Brittany in case she found herself in urgent need of assistance in dealing with Santana but Brittany had gotten a hold of Barbra from somewhere and was showing her some dance moves with Quinn and not paying any attention so Rachel remained quiet and waited.

"So, we do deal?"

"You haven't told me what you want yet."

"Jeez, you're so demanding. Get off my case, at least I'm trying reaching out and trying to relate or something..." She looked off to the side in thought as though trying to think of more.

"Under Brittany's instruction, no doubt!" Rachel snorted.

Rachel began to regret that last retort as Santana grabbed her by the collar and whispered intently in her ear. Rachel's eyes widened as she listened and Quinn nudged Brittany who watched the two girls actions with interest. Eventually Rachel squeaked out, "I'll try, but no promises."

"Try hard." Santana demanded, dropping Rachel from her grip and smoothing her collar out nonchalantly as she noticed Quinn, Brittany's and Barbra's eagle eyes on them.

"I'll do my best," Rachel offered.

They were interrupted by Karl, the theatre spokesperson who had not taken to the New Directions the first time her had met them. He stood on the steps to the theatre casting them a look of disgust at their bedraggled appearance. He tapped his microphone, ever the wannabe showman he had instantly rigged up a sound system, and coughed to get everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Romans, countrymen, Show choirs." No one laughed. Karl sniffed in disdain and then announced with more glee than was necessary.

"Vocal Adrenaline and New Directions are hereby disqualified from the competition. Everyone else please reconvene in three hours and we will announce the winners. As for you two," he turned to address the despondent looking teens who were gathering around him, listening with wide, sad eyes. "You are all banned from show choir competition for the next five years. And by that I mean you are banned individually, not only as a group. If you join another group we will know, we have ears everywhere."

Karl turned to do a diva storm off with his nose in the air but his eyes simply widened and he took a hesitant step backwards as he was met with the imposing sight of Rachel Berry marching determinedly straight for him. Before she reached normal conversational distance she had begun to argue forcefully, so loud in fact the microphone was picking up her voice so everyone on the street could hear, including the news crews loitering beyond the police barrier. They all leaned closer with interest and aimed all their recording equipment at the perfectly clear, high pitched voice ringing out across the whole street in outrage.

"How dare you? You cant dump on both choirs hopes and dreams, even though Vocal Adrenalines was pretty much nearly almost probably deserved. You cant project your frustration at your own failed dreams onto us. We were the best choir there and you're just going to callously throw away all our hard work because of a minor altercation?"

Santana pulled Barbra down to sit beside her on the kerb. "Watch this," she grinned as Brittany helped Rachel out.

"Disagreement sounds less illegal," Brittany muttered in her ear then sat back down on the other side of Barbra where she was joined by Quinn and Mercedes, then the rest of the club followed suit.

Rachel paused and thought, "Slight scuffle," she acquiesced.

"This is so much more fun when we're not the ones being yelled at," Brittany leaned over Barbra to address Santana.

"I saw you cry at the end of my solo, Karl. Are you that heartless, that cold hearted that you would destroy everything we've spent years working for because someone dumped a pale of vegan ice cream in your jacket pocket?"

"That's my favourite jacket and I just had it dry cleaned!" Karl yelled in return. "Wait, how do you know about that?"

"That's not important, the fact is you can crush the dreams of tens of teenagers but you will never stop Rachel Barbra Berry!"

New Directions roared their approval behind her making Karl even more edgy.

Barbra raised an eyebrow at the reveal of Rachel's middle name whereas Rachel's fathers were standing nearby, awestruck, unable to stop their daughters rant as they moon-eyed at Barbra.

Brittany wolf whistled at Rachel's forcefulness.

"Kinda wanky there, Berry," Santana smirked.

"There are more important things than your stupid competition anyway so you can shove your inevitable first place trophy up your-"

"Rachel!" Her father snapped out of his Barbra induced shock to finally hear what his daughter was saying.

The glee club cheered her loudly and she span around on her toes to see them all lined out behind her along the kerbside as they watched her at work.

"You didn't win!" Scotty bellowed indignantly.

"Totally did," Puck smirked cockily.

"Owned it," Finn fist bumped Puck with that annoying lopsided grin.

"Nailed it," Sam nodded.

"In the bag," Mercedes shrugged.

"Without any shadow of a doubt," Rachel huffed.

"Cleaned your clocks," Artie called out with a smooth whistle.

Vocal Adrenaline began, once more, to rally behind their leader and Karl but the New Directions parents stepped in before anything more could escalate and began to round up their offspring.

"All right, you lot. Back to the hotel."

"That's enough excitement for today."

They were pushed away from the confrontation and, to the show choir formerly known as Vocal Adrenaline's annoyance, broke out into a rousing rendition of 'We Are The Champions'.

"Ms Streisand?"

Karl let out a strangled yelp as Rachel got too close to him. How dare he question the 'Barbra'. Rachel's Dad's grabbed a tighter hold of her and began to pull her away from the possible homicide which they could both picture occurring as she let out a strangled growl in a terrified Karl's direction.

Barbra put her hand on Rachel's shoulder and rubbed soothingly which had the instant effect of causing her to faint into her fathers arms.

"I think I'll pass on the remainder of the competition, Karl. I've seen the sort of 'competition' this thing breeds and I'm not impressed. I've got better things to do than waste my time time here."

"But you're contracted."

"Bite me."

Santana and Brittany grinned proudly at their friend and high fived each other behind her back. Brittany snatched Karl's microphone and spoke into it, "Let's all remember the most important fact that is, no one died here today!"

She was met by stony stares from the surrounding competitors, parents, chaperones and a resounding cheer from her own glee club. "Best nationals ever!"

Shelby forced Vocal Adrenaline away from where the New Directions parents were trying to control their kids and had to drag Goolsby by his collar where he was going red in the face screaming at the judges. "Expect to hear from our lawyers!" he yelled out before choking.

Looming from out of the crowd, George slowly made his way over to his charges looking thoroughly hangdog. He looked up at them from under a swollen eye.

"Where were you, George?" Barbra asked, trying not to laugh. "You had one job to do. People were screaming out there, people could have died, George."

He had a split lip and bloodied teeth were visible when he opened his mouth. He remained speechless as he waved his arm back to where he had come from where an extremely irate Sue Sylvester was ranting and raving as she was man-handled into the back of a riot van. He shrugged helplessly and then gave them all a gappy grin where one tooth was missing as Barbra shook her head in despair. "Go get yourself seen to."

Puck slapped him on the back as he hobbled past. "Nice try, Big G."

Barbra watched as Brittany handed him her blanket and hugged him. "Poor guy. He was in the marines, decorated for bravery. Still couldn't take you two on," she turned to look Santana in the eye. "Still deserves a medal though."

"Har, har," Santana's words dripped with sarcasm but before she could retaliate someone shouted.

"Hey, you two!" The shout came from a cop who was heading straight for the two girls.

"Oh, what now?" Santana hissed under her breath. She looked to Brittany who shook her head subtly as if to say 'It wasn't me this time!'

"Haven't I seen you girls before?" The cop asked, eyes narrowed as he peered at them and managed to completely ignore the fact that Barbra frickin' Streisand was stood in between them.

"No," Santana snapped at him.

"Hang on. I know you," Brittany turned excitedly to Santana. "I didn't recognise him for a second with his pants on. It's the cop with the horse!"

"Oh, uh..."

"You remember, the one with the... oh."

Everyone stared.

"Run!"

Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and they turned and sped away weaving through people. The cop didn't bother following just stood and fumed as he watched them disappear.

"See you later!" Brittany yelled to their people a second before they disappeared around the corner.

Mr Schuester scratched his head and looked around a the remainder of his choir. "I guess that's it then. Go spend the rest of the day with your families and we'll meet back at the hotel this evening."

* * *

><p>That evening everyone met up at the designated restaurant on time and the group of teens all tried to squeeze through the doors at once. Once inside they could see Santana's father sitting at a long empty table reserved for them deep in conversation with a woman. They pair looked up as the doors opened and waved them all over.<p>

Santana held Rachel back for a second to ask, "How's that thing you were going to try to do going?"

"I mentioned it and I'm waiting for a reply."

"Hmmm, okay," Santana muttered and let her go.

"Rachel, I demand you sit by me I've got a lot to talk to you about," said Barbra waving her over.

Rachel glanced at Santana who leant over and lowered her voice. "Just pretend its not really her. Just some cool old-"

"Heard that!" Barbra called over to the two girls. "Less of the old, thank you."

Santana rolled her eyes and continued talking totally unfazed by Barbra's interruption. "-lady who wants to talk about singing and Jews and stuff like that."

"Wait, you're Jewish?" Puck grinned at Barbra seeing her in a whole other light now.

Kurt emitted a pained sigh.

"What?"

"She can sing, too,"

"Ha funny. I've not seen any musicals, only that Fockers thing. Which was shit."

"Puck!" Kurt looked scandalised.

"But it was."

"Yes, it was," Barbra agreed. "Kurt, you must tell me where you got that fabulous scarf from."

Kurt beamed happily as his fingers ran over his silk scarf, his nerves forgotten. Then he stopped and gasped to himself, "She knows my name."

Mercedes pushed him out of her way to sit down and he stumbled to sit next to her.

Santana smirked at her starstruck and not so starstruck friends and made her way over to her father, hugging him and sitting down beside him. Brittany followed her also getting a hug and sat down next to Santana, opposite Barbra and a very starry eyed and quiet Rachel Berry.

Barbra winked at Santana. Everyone sat down slightly nervously with the superstar in their midst. Brittany and Santana hadn't batted an eyelash at her presence and were already talking a mile an hour to Santana's father.

"Everyone's parents are flying back on the evening flight," Santana was explaining to him. "We're taking the bus back tomorrow."

"Awww sweetie, you're so funny." He snorted with laughter.

Santana put her glass down warily and looked directly at her father. This was not going to be good.

"You think you're leaving my sight again until we get back to Ohio? The hell you are. You two are coming with me. Britt too."

"Dad!"

"Santana!" He copied her mock outrage then asked. "And how may riots did you start this month?"

"Ladies don't start fights they finish them," Brittany added helpfully.

"How many?"

"One," she huffed in annoyance.

"When the answer to that question is none I might let you have your cell phone back. Until then, _not leaving my sight_."

Santana slumped back in her seat in a huff while Brittany paid no further attention at all and listened in on Rachel and Barbra's conversation.

"Honestly, if there hadn't been a mild rioting incident where would we have placed?" Rachel asked Barbra earnestly, desperate to know.

Everyone put down their cutlery, glasses, whatever they were occupied with and listened curiously.

"Honestly?" They all stared breathlessly at her. "Phew, no pressure," she muttered. "Honestly, you're a little rough around the edges and there's a streak of cheese you cant deny."

Everyone turned to stare accusingly at Mr Schuester who shrugged.

"When you perform you wear your hearts on your sleeves and that's what its all about for me. I'd have loved to see you win but with those judges I'd guess you have placed... top three?"

"And what about you?" Brittany asked cheekily. "Where would you have placed us?"

"Oh god. Please say it," Rachel begged.

"Let me just say that... today was the most fun I've ever had at one of these things. Seriously. Everyone's so uptight and focused they seem to forget show choir is supposed to be fun. Its the only reason to do it. It's not about winning, its not the most technical, loudest, most flamboyant. Its about going out there singing your heart out and loving every second of it."

"So," said Barbra to the rest of the glee club who were all rapt with attention. "Let me tell you why I think you guys should have won, if it weren't for those stuck up frigid judges who wouldn't know a bit of melodrama if it came up and punched them in the face." All the kids laughed and settled down comfortably absolutely delighted with Brittany and Santana's friend.

"Hey, where's George?" Santana asked, looking around for their man mountain friend.

"I gave him the night off," said Barbra. "I think he earned it."

Kurt and Rachel held hands and squeezed their hands tightly next to each other as they drank in every moment rapturously. The ice was broken and with common ground they all began to talk and laugh and enjoy themselves.

* * *

><p>On their last morning in NY most of the gang were in Rachel's hotel room all packed and waiting for Mr Schuester's summons to get on the road again.<p>

"Hey, where are Brittany and Santana?" Sam asked, looking around the room for the missing girls. His eyes widened. "Or wait, should I not have asked?" His eyes glazed over as he thought about what they were doing.

Mercedes slapped him across the head. "They had to ride back with Doc Lopez. He may be cool but he is one scary dude when he wants to be."

"I suppose you have to be when you live with those two girls."

The buzz of conversation in the room dropped as Rachel walked in accompanied with a little girl in her arms. Rachel carefully set her down next to her and beamed around the room at them all.

"Hey guys," she smiled at them. "These are my friends," she said to the girl. "You wanna say hi?"

The girl shook her head shyly then hid slightly behind Rachel's leg until Rachel crouched down and put her arm around her.

"Okay. You don't have to if you don't want to. There's someone very important I want you to meet. Is that okay?"

The girl nodded and Rachel led her over to where Puck was sitting with his guitar gaping openly at the girl in front of him.

"This is my friend, Noah." The girl looked shyly up at him as he blinked uncertainly at her appearance. "Will you say hi to him?"

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he replied, his eyes flicking to Rachel for confirmation. She nodded kindly. "Beth," he finished with a sweet smile. He noticed her staring at his haircut. "You wanna see my Mohawk?" he asked her softly and pointed to his hair. She smiled and giggled. With a grin he leaned forward until she could run her tiny hand over the strip of spiky hair. "Cool huh?" He asked as she giggled at the feel of it.

To his surprise she asked him in a small voice. "Have you see the princess?"

He glanced at Rachel. "Princess?" Rachel raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Yeah sure, I know the princess."

"You do?" Beth looked amazed.

"Sure. See that door over there?" He pointed to where the door adjoining the two rooms was. "She's through there."

"Really?" She gasped.

"Yeah," he smiled.

"Thanks Noah," she beamed at him and he melted into a puddle at the sight. Wrenching her hand from Rachel she threw herself at him for a hug. "I like you," she whispered in his ear.

Puck blinked furiously to try and stop the tears and rasped. "I like you too," he whispered back.

As they headed for the door Rachel looked back at Puck. "Okay?" she mouthed the question to him.

He nodded with a teary but goofy smile. "Thanks," he muttered as they knocked on the door and opened it as they were told to, 'Come in."

* * *

><p>Above them, high in the sky, Doctor Lopez kicked off his shoes and leaned back with a sigh as he stretched out in the luxurious First Class section of the early morning flight on the way to Ohio. He leaned over out of his reclining chair and looked back through the open curtain down the aisle to the economy class where he could see Santana glaring at him with a glorious scowl. He tipped up his champagne flute in a cheeky toast to her.<p>

The man in front of Santana reclined his seat and sloshed her orange juice where it had been resting on her tray so it dripped onto her magazine where she'd been checking out all the expensive items she couldn't buy. She looked away from her fathers smirking face, her disgust at him clearly apparent as Brittany addressed her.

"We should go travelling this summer," Britt said from where she was staring out of the window transfixed by the scenery below and the clouds. "I want to go see the guards at Buckingham palace. The ninja ones. And the Eiffel tower and we should go to Brittany in France cos I bet its the awesomest place on earth. And we could go to Spain and Ireland and-"

"Are you just going to name very country in Europe?"

"Oh my god, yes! That's a brilliant idea but you know we should go to every country in the world."

"Whatever you want B.

"Will your Dad be alright with it?"

"He'll be paying for it, so no. I'll tell him were looking at colleges. Yeah, that'll work."

"We could go to Rome the city of romance, Hamburg the city of hamburgers, Cork the city of... corks?"

Santana sighed contently. "Anywhere you want."

* * *

><p><strong>The End?<strong>


End file.
